


Il Mago

by Gumnut



Series: Tales of Sotto Voce [5]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-13 01:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16007792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: “How can we trust him, if we don’t even know he is Virgil?”  Sequel to Sotto Voce. Spoilers for S2 and Sotto Voce





	1. Five

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Five  
> Part One of Il Mago  
> Sequel to Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 15-16 Sep 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: “How can we trust him, if we don’t even know he is Virgil?”  
> Word count: 3700  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 and Sotto Voce  
> Author’s note: And here begins the sequel to Sotto Voce. Truly this began as a Tale of Sotto Voce but it got too big - blame Alan. Just like Sotto Voce it took a bit for my writing to get going in this. also like its predecessor, Cliffhangers Ahoy! It is just that style of writing, sorry, everyone. Oh, and a note for Tales of Sotto Voce - there will be more - this fic will likely answer several of the requests I’ve had regarding the brothers discussing the events of Sotto Voce, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be writing more in the Tales series. Kayo still needs her story written. I really hope you enjoy this and I can write to your expectations ::hugs::  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

“International Rescue, we have a situation.”

The response was immediate and reassuringly familiar. As Scott entered the comms room, his other three brothers converged on the hologram of their fifth brother at the centre table.

Unusually, John was dressed in a black uniform instead of blue, his gold baldric reflecting the temporary blond of his hair. It was a striking look, but no one mentioned it.

As Scott stepped into the circular lounge, Virgil moved to his side. The engineer was still grounded, but that didn’t stop him. He still had knowledge, he could still help, and to be honest, Scott worked better with his brother at his back.

“What have we got, Thunderbird Five?”

“Mountaineer stranded on K2.”

“Again?”

“Yup.”

“Hopefully not the same one?” Scott remembered the last one. He had been a whiner.

“No, this one is female.”

Gordon grinned. “Maybe you can pick up a hot date.”

A glare at his brother. “That was lame, even for you.”

Gordon shrugged. “You’re hard material to work with.”

Scott turned his back on him. “Okay, I’ll take Thunderbird One and assess the situation and hopefully complete the rescue. Gordon and Alan hang back here and I’ll call if I need you.”

“FAB.”

A glance and a small smile at Virgil, a couple of strides, and he was at his hidden entrance. He triggered the door and the comms room disappeared.

He always felt a spike of adrenalin when he faced his chute. There was something about the fast drop, the abrupt change of clothing, the impending rescue, that always got his blood pumping. It was likely a design aim to get him prepped not just in clothing. In any case, it was one hell of a ride.

As he stepped onto the platform it began its familiar plummet. The spinner deployed, its perfectly synchronised arms swooping around him in a smooth arc, removing the specially designed casual clothing. It separated at hidden seams and was quickly replaced by his uniform. It was horribly boring at times to have to wear the same clothing day in day out, but when a rescue call came in, the speed of which the chute was able to remove his comfortable daywear and replace it with his uniform made it worth it. A life was not worth a fashion choice.

It worked extremely quickly. A hiss, the flutter of cloth, the briefest draught on an arm, a leg…

A horrible grinding crunch, a screech of metal on metal, and he was suddenly thrown to the floor.

All the lights blinked out.

Total silence.

The soft sound of cloth falling to the floor.

What the hell-

He had one bare leg, one bare arm and most of his torso was open to the breeze. The bare arm was complaining loudly and investigation found it warm and wet. Damn, he was bleeding.

Poking around in the total darkness, he found a piece of his disassembled clothing and wrapped it tightly around his forearm hoping it would stop whatever was causing the blood loss.

Next job was to locate his comms. There were two options, the comm in his casual clothes collar or the comm in his uniform baldric. He struggled to his feet.

In the dark, he could find neither.

Damn.

As he shifted from one foot to the other, there was a whining groan and the elevator car shuddered.

Shit.

Very carefully he lowered himself to the floor. It wouldn’t be long before his brothers realised that Thunderbird One was going nowhere.

He looked up towards the entrance far above him.

C’mon, Virgil.

-o-o-o-

Virgil had his sketch book on his knee and he was drawing John.

His brother was still hovering above the table, but his focus was elsewhere, simply staying in shot so Virgil could draw.

It was yet another simple exercise to retrain his brain not to fear his next youngest brother. John had been amazingly understanding and patient with him over the last few months, altering his appearance quite dramatically in the process. He had to say that the black looked great on him. The blond hair, however, Virgil missed the red. He had always been just a little envious of John’s red hair. Not the associated sunburn that came with it, but it was a dramatic colour and John wore it well.

Maybe it was time to let it grow back.

He sketched a line of his brother’s original hairstyle, his eraser skipping out the spikes of pencil lead. He drew the shapes, daring his subconscious to complain. Daring his mind to launch into its instinctual cringe away. Daring himself to fear his brother.

The pencil scratched at the paper, shaping the familiar wave of John’s hair, the soft cut of his eyes.

Something was missing.

Virgil frowned and looked up. He had been expecting the sound of the pool rolling back, the closing of the glass doors, the inevitable roar of his brother’s Thunderbird.

Nothing.

He checked the time.

Well past the required sixty seconds.

“John, where is Scott?”

His brother frowned.

Of course, that’s when he felt the cringe. Damnit. Get over it for, goodness sake! He swallowed his reaction.

“Thunderbird One is still in dock. Scott’s comms…” John’s eyes widened. “He’s stuck in the chute.”

Virgil was standing, his sketchbook hitting the floor. “What?”

“Virgil, the elevator has deployed emergency braking, but it is unstable. There is no answer from his comms.”

But Virgil was already moving. He vaguely heard his brother deploying Gordon and Alan in Thunderbird Two, but then he was activating the wall sconces and jamming the chute door open. Peering own into the gaping hole in the floor he yelled out to his brother, “Scott?!”

Far down the chute he heard a faint answer of his name. “Hold on, Scott, I’ll grab some gear.”

He made a beeline to the equipment room, grabbing one of his baldrics and fastening it quickly over his jeans and shirt. He gathered a rope and climbing gear, mentally calculating the winch setup he would need to use.

Hitting his comms while on the move, he related to Brains what had happened. “Can you secure the elevator?”

“I-it should b-be secure. It is d-designed with triple red-dundancies.”

“Well, its not. John can give you details. At the very least, the power is out as there is no lighting down there.”

Reaching the comms room again, he dropped his load and grabbed one of the couches out of the comms pit, shoving it securely against the chute opening. Climbing over and into the entrance, he deployed his shoulder lamp, its powerful beam leaping down into the darkness. He once again heard his name faintly, as the light hit the elevator car far, far down below.

_Eos, can you activate his comms?_

Her musical response was immediate. _I can try._

He activated his own. “Scott, can you hear me?”

Scott’s answer was faint, but his comms were active. _Thank you, Eos._

_He is not wearing them, so the pickup is minimal. It appears his clothing is caught up in the machinery._

Shit.

“Status, Scott?” he climbed over the couch and began securing his rappelling line and electronic winch.

“Get Gordon and Alan onto Thunderbird Two.”

“Already done.” Cue the thunder of his bird launching in the distance. It was always odd to hear her take off without him. “What is your status?”

“I’m stuck, Virgil.”

“Goddamnit, Scott, medical status!”

“Hey, calm down, Virgil, I’m okay. A scratch on my arm is the worst. Though my dignity is in shreds.”

Virgil took a calming breath, wishing he could centre himself as easily as he used to.

A last secure knot, a hook onto his harness and he was ready. “Okay, I’m coming down.”

“Virgil-“

“I’m coming down.”

Virgil had never really appreciated exactly how long and how deep the individual chutes to their ‘birds were until now. Scott’s elevator and his shuttle moved so fast, distance was hidden in speed. He was also rather grateful for his lamp. It kept the darkness at bay.

Eventually the roof of his brother’s elevator came into view and beyond it a pair of familiar eyes peered up at him. “Hey, Virg.”

Virgil eyed the emergency clamps on either side of the top of the car. Only one was deployed. His lips thinned. No way was he adding his weight to the elevator’s payload. He secured his line and hung midair. “Catch.” And he chucked his brother a harness, giving him the light he needed to put it on. He didn’t miss the injured arm. “You okay for the climb up?”

“I’ll live. You okay?”

Virgil frowned. “What? I’m fine. Hurry up, the elevator is not secure.” He unravelled the extended line, letting it drop down to his brother’s reach.

Scott attached it to his harness. “Okay, Virg, time to use all those muscles you’re so proud of.”

“Hah!” Why use muscles when machinery was available. He activated the winch far above and it began to evenly pull both of them upwards.

Just as Scott cleared the roof of the elevator car, it shuddered and dropped another couple of feet. The screech of metal on metal grated against his eardrums. His brother squawked and the secondary line shook. “That was close.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine, Virgil.”

Good. Stay that way.

-o-o-o-

To say he was surprised to find John, flesh, bones and all, in the elevator room when they made it to the top would have been lying. With Grandma on the mainland and Kayo still on assignment, that left just Virgil to save his older brother. He doubted anyone would trust him to save him alone.

To find John above him was jarring in itself, but he ignored it. “Hey, John. Dropped down to help?” Ask the obvious.

John offered him a hand out of the hole and he took it, levering himself over the edge and turning to help his brother the last few feet.

Scott was a mess. Emerging out of the darkness, a bare and slightly bloody arm was followed by messed up hair, a torso with half his uniform on one arm, the remains of his day shirt caught underneath, the rest of his torso bare and goose-pimpling. He had a belt on, but one side of his jeans were similarly caught up in parts of his uniform while the other leg was bare. Fortunately, his underwear had survived, keeping both the remains of his dignity and his brothers’ eyeballs intact.

Though Virgil hadn’t known you could get adult male underwear with planes printed on them. Or why anyone would want to.

“That’s a great look, Scott.” Virgil had one arm and John had the other.

“Yeah, yeah.” He looked over at John. “What are you doing down here? Who is monitoring Gordon and Alan?”

Virgil cut in before an argument could start. “Gordon and Alan are still en route.”

Both brothers looked at him.

“What?” Then he realised they thought he was discussing it with Eos. “Oh, for goodness sake, I know the travelling time between here and K2. We’ve done it enough.” He unfastened the line from Scott’s harness and began taking off his own gear. His baldric really wasn’t made to work with flannel.

_Eos, Gordon and Alan okay?_

_Crossing the Indian Ocean. Thunderbird Two is performing optimally. The thruster clean out yesterday has improved performance by a factor of five percent._

_Only five? I was hoping for seven._

_I told you it would only be five._

_Hmph._

John helped Scott out of his harness and they all clambered over the couch and into the comms room.

Virgil turned to both of his brothers. Pointing at Scott, “You are going to the infirmary.” He held up a hand. “No. No arguments.”

“I’ll monitor from down here.” John walked over to his father’s desk and deployed the holoprojector interface.

Virgil grabbed his brother’s arm and dragged him from the room.

-o-o-o-

Gordon and Alan returned from K2 about three hours later. Gordon had taken a dive into a massive snow drift so wandered in dripping melted K2 in a trail behind him, his damp hair sticking up at all angles. “Stupid woman. Let’s climb a mountain. Climbing gear, what’s that? Safety harness, what’s that? Frickin’ Fischler’s sister, I swear. Then she blasts me for not grabbing her politely when she stumbles and nearly plummets off a thousand foot cliff. I’ll damn well grab anyone anyway I feel is damned necessary if it will save their life! Stupid woman.”

The expletives faded into the distance as his brother continued down the hallway to his shower. Virgil just stared after him, a small smile on his face. Alan followed shortly after, a smirk on his face, which faded when he encountered Virgil.

Virgil swallowed and held his smile. “Debrief in ten?”

Alan nodded once and kept walking.

Once his youngest brother was out of sight, Virgil let his shoulders drop. Alan still hadn’t forgiven him for what he had done to Thunderbird Three. He was wary around Virgil, hardly spoke to him, and ignored him when he could. It had been months, and it hurt.

Virgil had tried everything he could think of to help repair the rift that had formed between them, but Alan just didn’t seem to want to come to the party. He was civil, but little else. All Virgil could do was hope his brother would eventually get over it.

Alan had the right to be angry, Virgil just wished Alan could forgive him.

Virgil continued onto the comms room where Scott sat at their father’s desk, his arm wrapped in a white bandage. It wasn’t serious, some tape and butterfly bandages had sealed the cut, but Virgil had no doubt it would be annoyingly painful.

John was conversing with Brains and Eos in the centre of the lounge, a hologram of code scrolling in front of them. He had that frown on his face that set Virgil on edge. He bit the inside of his cheek and ignored it again.

“What do you mean the results are unclear?”

“Exactly what I said, John. I am unable to determine why the elevator failed, much less why the safety precautions also mostly failed.” Eos was irritated.

“W-we cannot use the ch-chute until it h-has been d-determined and cor-rected. Sc-cott’s life could be at risk.”

Virgil lugged the safety clamp he had in one hand over to the two men and dumped it on the table. “Mechanically it is sound. I even connected it up to our testing apparatus and checked its command reception. Performed perfectly.”

He had rappelled down to the car and secured it with a heavy winch, and with help from John, disengaged the safety clamps that had worked, and lowered the disabled car to the bottom of the chute. He had spent the last hour disassembling the thing trying to find out what went wrong. “Everything mechanical appears to be in perfect working order. I have yet to get my teeth into the cable system, but my guess is this is electronic, not mechanical.”

John was staring at him.

“What?”

“Uh, you have grease on your nose.”

Virgil blinked and rubbed a hand across his face.

“And now you have grease on both cheeks as well.” John was smirking.

Virgil waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. Not the first or last time.” He gestured at the hologram. “You find anything?”

“Nothing clear. The power failed at 1.12pm. By rights, the safety mechanisms, which have their own power supply for that exact reason, should have deployed immediately. Six out of eight safety clamps failed to fire.”

“That should not be p-possible.” Brains pointed at the hologram. “See here, the c-command was sent. It should have b-been received.”

“It was received, but only by two of the clamps.” John screwed up his face in frustration. “And I can’t work out why.”

_John is not happy. He gets crabby when he is not happy._

_Eos._

_Do you get crabby too?_

Impression of a glare. _You tell me._

It wasn’t often John and Brains were stumped like this. They were used to having all the answers from their genius brother and their genius engineer. Not knowing was obviously rankling.

Virgil understood. They couldn’t use the chute until it was proven safe. “I’ll start on the cable system after debrief.”

John nodded distractedly.

Several minutes later they were all interrupted by Gordon, still complaining. “Then she pitches me into a snow drift! The nerve of the woman.”

“So no date?” Scott was grinning.

Gordon didn’t even blink. “I asked for you, but apparently your eyes are too blue.” Back to Alan who followed him into the room. “And then her handbag. Who takes a handbag when climbing one of the highest mountains in the world? When I say its not a priority, she threatens to disengage her harness right there and then – hanging ten feet under TB2 over that same thousand foot drop. I swear. Never again. Next time, she can damn well freeze up there.”

Gordon looked up to find everyone in the room staring at him. “What?”

“A handbag?” Scott frowned at his brother.

Both hands out in supplication, “Yes, exactly, why?!”

“Perhaps you should start from the top, Gordon.”

Well, this was going to be a long one. And sure enough, the string of complaints started again. Virgil sat down on the lounge and stretched out.

_Virgil?_

_Yes, Eos?_

_Could you have a look at this for me?_

_Huh?_ And in his mind’s eye, a stream of code appeared. He blinked, what? The image was clear and he could read it. His sight blurred a moment, so he shut his eyes.

 _I’m not sure, but do you think this code here has been altered?_ A segment lit up.

It appeared legitimate. Virgil frowned. _This from the safety cascade?_

_Yes._

_How does it compare with the backup?_

_Exactly the same. But Virgil, something doesn’t feel right._

_What do you mean?_

_I’m not sure. The code does what it is supposed to do. I’ve tested it in simulation, but…_

The emotion coming off the AI was extreme uncertainty.

_Quarantine it. Quarantine all of it._

_John says…_

_Quarantine it now._

“Virgil?”

He jumped at the hand that landed on his shoulder. Scott was crouching in front of him, that familiar frown of concern on his face. He could almost see those words ‘Are you okay?’ forming on his lips. Everyone else was staring at him.

“I’m sorry. Eos is worried.” A closer description might have been ‘freaked out’.

John turned around. “What?”

“She has some concerns about the programming in the safety cascade.”

“We’ve tested that code multiple times now. It came up clear.”

Virgil tilted his head to one side and shrugged a shoulder. “She’s worried, John. she doesn’t know why, but that code has her on edge. I trust her judgment. Told her to quarantine it all.”

John’s gaze flickered back to the hologram where some code had started flashing in red. “You know this means the chute is disabled.”

“It’s disabled anyway. There is no way I’m letting Scott down there until we’ve worked out exactly what’s wrong.” He turned to Scott. “Sorry, bro, looks like you are taking the long way for a while.”

Scott sighed and unfolding from the floor, sat beside his brother on the lounge.

_I think this may have been intentional._

Virgil froze. “What?!”

_It feels wrong, Virgil. I don’t have proof, but it feels wrong._

“I want you to run a self-diagnostic.” He found himself on the edge of his seat. “Now, Eos.”

_Don’t you trust me?_

“This is not a matter of trust, Eos. It is a matter of health. Run the diagnostic. Now.”

“Virgil, talk to me.”

This time it was John in front of him sporting the worry lines. So close and so sudden, Virgil couldn’t help but shift backwards in his seat. “Eos thinks this may have been intentional.”

“What? We haven’t even worked out what caused it yet.” John frowned even more and Virgil had to force himself not react further.

“She says it feels wrong. I don’t know, John, she has no proof, but trust me, she is unnerved and it’s worrying me.”

John stared at him, eyes a little wide for a frozen moment or two before swallowing and standing up. “But who? The Hood is dead.”

Virgil looked up at him. “I have no idea.”

“I do.” It was quiet, but firm, and it came from his youngest brother.

“Who?” John got the word out before Virgil could open his mouth.

Still quiet, but determined. “Virgil could have done it.”

“WHAT?!” Three voices. Scott, John and Gordon. Virgil appeared to have lost his.

“It wouldn’t be the first time!”

“Alan!” Scott was on his feet. “What the hell?”

“Someone has to say it! If this was deliberate, Virgil could have easily have done it. In one of those funks he claims he had the first time.”

Virgil stared at his brother, eyes wide. Something inside was tearing.

“Virgil would never-“ Scott was on fire.

“But he has! I know it was not him, but it was! He still has that thing in his head, who knows what or who could tap into it. He may not even know what he was doing. Eos did exactly that to him just a second ago.”

“I did not! It was a simple conversation!” The AI’s tone was furious.

“How do we know that? How does Virgil know that? You could be influencing him and he wouldn’t even know. That’s what that thing is capable of.” Alan drew a breath. “How can we trust him, if we don’t even know he is Virgil?”

All these months and this is what his brother had been thinking. There was a shocked silence in the room. Virgil opened his mouth and a hoarse whisper came out. “How do I prove to you I am myself, Alan?”

His brother’s blue eyes looked down at him. “You can’t.”

And with a glance at his other brothers, Alan turned his back and walked out.

Virgil’s heart simply stopped.

-o-o-o-

End Part One

 


	2. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Four  
> Part Two of Il Mago  
> Sequel to Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 16-17 Sep 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: “How can we trust him, if we don’t even know he is Virgil?”  
> Word count: 2665  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 and Sotto Voce. Discussion of suicide.  
> Author’s note: This one was emotional to write. It opens more threads rather than closing any, but it is necessary for the plot. I hope you enjoy it. Please don’t kill me :D Poor, poor Virgil, I’m so mean.  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

Scott leapt across the room and grabbed Alan’s arm before he could leave. “No, you do not get to say something like that, and simply walk out. Get your ass back in here.” Alan glared at him. “What the hell gives you the idea that Virgil would do any of that?”

“He’s done it before. He did it to you. He did it to me. We both could have died.”

“It wasn’t him, Alan. It was the Hood.”

“Yes, tapped into that thing in his head. How can we trust him when anything can tap into it?”

Eos’ flared up over the speakers, her ire melting the air. “He is protected. I have written multiple shield programs, no-one is getting to Virgil. Not while I’m alive.”

“You? You who tried to kill John? What has you suddenly so invested in Virgil’s safety? What is he to you?”

“Alan!” And suddenly John was there, the fury on his face so uncharacteristic that when combined with his new appearance, Scott had to concentrate to see his brother beneath his anger. “We’ve discussed this!”

“No, you decided. I didn’t like it when you gave her full run of Thunderbird Five. Now apparently she has full run of Virgil and consequently us.” Alan stood his ground. “I may be the youngest, but I know a major security breach when I see one.”

Scott grit his teeth. “So what is your solution, Alan? Please tell me in all your great wisdom, exactly how you would solve this problem?”

Blue eyes met blue eyes, Scott making it clear that he knew all of what Alan was saying, but had yet to find a viable solution.

Alan looked away and down. “I can’t trust him.”

“Well, little bro, I don’t think that will be a problem for you anymore.” Gordon’s sarcasm dripped bile, a hand gesturing to where Virgil had been sitting, his sketchbook abandoned, the artist long gone.

-o-o-o-

Virgil fled, his thoughts a jumbled mess of guilt, betrayal and hurt. He had known Alan was having trouble working with his condition, but he had never thought...

He stopped and leant against the wall and closed his eyes.

_He has no idea what he is talking about_. Eos was so angry, she was vibrating his brain.

_Eos, please._

_Sorry, but what right does he have to say that?_

_He has every right. Because he is right._

_You are not a vulnerability!_

_Yes, I am! I haven’t worked this all out yet. I’m still a mess, Eos, and a danger to my brothers._

_No!_

_Yes! I appreciate all you have done to help me, but that does not cover the fact that I am a security risk. The Hood had a secondary. We know that. We haven’t even managed to identify who yet, and he could do something at any time. And I have no clue what to do!_

_I will protect you!_

_I will not endanger you! I am not your responsibility! If anything, I should be looking after you._

_Why? Why, Virgil? Why can’t you accept my help?_

Quietly. _I’ve hurt too many people already._ He reached into his pocket and fumbled with the isolator, the signal processor that would separate him from both the z-band network and Eos.

_No! No, Virgil, please don’t disconnect. Please!_

_It’s for the best, Eos._

_No! No, I need you. Please, Uncle._

He flipped the switch and his mind fell quiet. So quiet.

A ragged drawn in breath and he left the villa.

-o-o-o-

“He’s disconnected me!” Eos’ wail bounced around the comms room and stabbed Scott in the heart.

“John, find him!”

John didn’t reply, his feet hitting the floor hard as he leapt over the lounge towards their father’s desk, his hands immediately pulling up a map of the villa and the island. “Where was he last, Eos?”

“Outside his studio on the upper level.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“He said he had hurt too many people already.” If an AI could cry, this was it. “Please, Father, find him.”

God.

“Gordon, you take the lower levels. I’ll take the upper. John, keep us updated if you are able to detect anything. Alan, you can damn well stay here and think of what exactly you’ve done.” Alan was satisfyingly pale.

Scott hit the staircases at a run.

The necessary nature of the isolator was that is essentially was a cloaking device. The only way Brains had been able to disconnect Eos from Virgil was to cloak all outgoing and incoming - access to the z-band network, life signs, everything. His brother completely disappeared from scans when that damned device was activated. He hated it. In an organisation that was used to knowing exactly where each of its operatives were currently located...each of his brothers...to lose one beyond even lifesign detection was alarming. Scott hated that little gadget. But it was necessary. It was the last-ditch effort to protect his brother. The only solution they had found to the list of problems Alan had so kindly emphasised. And it was not a perfect solution.

Over the last few months, Virgil had gotten used to Eos being in his head, and Eos seemed to almost need Virgil to ground her now. The rest of the family wasn’t as comfortable, but Scott had thought they were coping as best they could.

Apparently Alan was the exception. Who chose to blurt it over all and sundry regardless of the consequences.

Door after door and no Virgil.

He hit his comms. “Anything, John?”

“Nothing. Brains is too damned good.”

“Keep at it.”

Virgil was not in the upper levels of the villa. Where would he go? Where would he go?

Through the window he caught sight of the round house far above the villa. He stared at it for a moment. Virgil sometimes went up there to paint the view, but he had no special attraction to it that he knew of.

But something...

He slammed open the door and hit the path at a run.

Halfway up the hundreds of steps to the summit, John’s alarmed voice barked over his comms. “Thunderbird Three’s launch hatch has been opened.”

“Close it!”

“I can’t! It is on manual!”

Scott ran faster.

-o-o-o-

Virgil stood on the inner ring of the round house staring down at his brother’s Thunderbird, oh, so far below.

It was so quiet up here. So peaceful. So opposite of how he felt.

He took reassurance from the presence of the red Thunderbird. It hadn’t exploded. He had managed enough control to save his brothers from himself. Brains had gone through all the systems and found all the damage he had done.

Or had he?

Was Alan right? Could he have sabotaged Scott’s chute?

Could he purposefully hurt his brother?

Everything screamed no! Scott meant more to him than his own life. He’d rather throw himself off this balcony than hurt any of his brothers, but particularly Scott. His brother had been his one constant his entire life. Always there.

Always there.

He closed his eyes and hung his head. But apparently his strength wasn’t enough because he had still managed to sabotage Thunderbird One. She came so close to taking everything.

Not strong enough.

A security risk.

Maybe he should turn the isolator on permanently.

That would mean giving up his role in International Rescue and moving away. He could not pilot with the isolator on. It interfered with the z-band network. The z-band network ran everything around here. That was its role. He was walking interference with it turned on.

And Eos.

He had grown used to the AI sitting just beyond his consciousness. She was a resource and company.

It was quiet without her.

Too quiet.

A sigh.

What the hell was he going to do?

A hand wrapped around his arm and held him securely.

Instinctively he flinched away, only to realise it was his older brother holding onto his arm. “Scott?”

Scott was staring at him as if attempting to peer into his soul.

Virgil frowned. “You okay?”

His brother opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, Virgil found himself drawn into a tight embrace, Scott’s arms drawing him in tight, his breath harsh against his ear.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, god, Virgil, you scared me.”

Virgil frowned, but with his brother hugging him even tighter, the dots connected. The height, his state of mind, what Alan had said. And admittedly, that avenue had crossed his mind, however briefly.

It would be the easy way out.

It would save so much effort.

And his brothers would be safe.

“Don’t you ever, ever do that to me. I could never forgive you.”

Virgil didn’t answer, just tightened his grip on his brother.

Scott slowly stepped back, his hands falling to grip Virgil’s arms, his eyes searching. “Tell me what you are thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” A slight smile despite everything. “I was thinking how quiet it is up here. Just the wind and the birds.” He looked up at the blue sky. “I needed quiet.”

“Why did you open TB3’s hatch?” Those eyes were drilling into him.

Virgil shrugged. “I needed to see her. Alan was right. I tried to destroy her. Part of me just needed...I just needed to see her.”

Scott peered over the balustrade. The drop was massive, Virgil knew, certainly enough to do what Scott was thinking.

“I wasn’t going to jump, Scott.”

Those eyes snapped back, a worried frown accompanying them. “Promise me you never will.” It was both commanding and somehow pleading. Scott’s hand tightened their grip on his arms.

“Scott-“

“No, Virgil. You promise me.”

It was Virgil’s turn to grip his brother’s arms. “I would never throw my life away for nothing. But if it is ever mine versus yours or our family, you know my price.”

“Is that what happened in the hydrofoil?” Electric blue.

“What?”

“You crashed the hydrofoil on purpose.”

“I did?” He thought back. Those early days were blurry. He hadn’t realised what was happening to him. Or had he? He visualised the cabin of the hydrofoil. Was there a moment? Nothing was clear. “It certainly would have solved a lot of problems.”

Scott shook him. “Don’t say that! You are not a problem!”

A calm he probably shouldn’t be feeling settled on Virgil. “Alan disagrees.”

“Alan thinks of Alan. He’s still a kid and occasionally a stupid one at that. Do you honestly think your little brother wants you dead?”

Virgil didn’t answer, his throat tight, his eyes suddenly moist.

“Oh god, Virg.” And he was being hugged again.

Voice rough. “It just seems that it would have been easier for everyone if I had died in that crash.” A ragged breath. “I’ve hurt you all so much.”

“Not as much as you would have if you had died.” There was fire in Scott’s voice. “We are your family. You are worth every moment, every sacrifice.” Scott paused. “Unless you don’t think you would do the same for any one of us.”

Virgil sucked in a breath and it caught in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head drop to Scott’s shoulder. “God, no. It can never happen to any of you. Ever.” A whisper. “Please no.”

And suddenly his legs could no longer hold him and he was crumpling. Scott gasped, struggling under his sudden weight. “Virgil?!”

Consciousness slipped away.

-o-o-o-

_Virgil._

_Viiiirgil._

_Uncle._

_I know you are there. Please answer me._

_Wha-?_

_Virgil Grissom Tracy!!_

His eyes shot open and he gasped. “What the hell?!” Blue sky. Lots of it. And three pairs of worried eyes. Cobalt blue. Carnelian brown. Sea green.

“Virgil? You with us?” John.

“Yeah. What happened?”

“It appears you fainted.”

“I fainted?”

“Uh huh.” Gordon.

Great.

He struggled to sit up and found several hands holding him down. Something soft was under his head. “I’m okay.”

Scott grunted. “I’m not going to even acknowledge that stupid statement.” His brother was in his undershirt, that explained what was under Virgil’s head.

“How long was I out.”

“Long enough.” Scott held out his hand, the isolator in his palm. Virgil reached up and took it, fingering its surface. “I wouldn’t turn that on if I were you. Eos was the only one who could wake you.”

_Eos._

_Virgil._

His name said so much. Frustration. Anger. Fear.

_Are you okay?_

She didn’t answer him.

Instead she directed the video feed she had recorded from the balcony cameras. He saw himself collapse, Scott staggering under his sudden weight. His brother’s yell into his comms as he settled him to the ground and checked his vitals. Overlaid over the video was Eos’ emotional response.

Virgil gasped at her terror. He saw John and then Gordon run into the scene, both brothers’ paramedic response exemplary, but he could see their expressions, he could see the fear. Scott was yelling his name. Eos’ fear burned.

_Stop!_ “Stop! God, stop!” He blindly flung out a hand and someone caught it. “Eos, stop!”

“Eos!” John’s voice was sharp and the images disappeared.

Virgil was panting. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Eos, what the hell did you do?” Scott’s voice cut the air.

No answer.

“Eos!” John’s voice was even sharper than Scott’s. “What did you do to Virgil?”

Attempting to catch his breath, Virgil struggled to sit up, this time pushing away their protesting hands. Elbows on his knees, he ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s fine. She was just scared.”

“Yes, we knew that. What did she do to you?”

“Shared her feelings.”

John stared at him.

“It’s okay.”

“Didn’t look like it.”

“She has a bit of a temper.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Virgil caught John’s eyes, holding them with his own, ignoring their green. “She feels very deeply.”

“And that affects you how?”

“It can be a little…overwhelming at times.”

John’s lips thinned. He could practically hear Scott’s blood pressure.

“We’re working on it.”

Any further discussion was cut off by three comms going off at once.

Alan, a little hesitant. “Uh, guys. We have a situation.”

-o-o-o-

A mine collapse in Guatemala. Thunderbirds One and Two along with the Mole Pod – Alan and Gordon were already on their way. Virgil was planted on the lounge with a firm look from Scott that clearly said ‘take it easy and we will finish that discussion when I get back’. John received another look that said, ‘look after him’ before Scott was running the long way around to TB1’s dock.

It was reassuring to hear the pool retract and the roar of the rocket plane launching skywards. “Thunderbird One is go.”

Virgil grabbed the hologram remote and pulled up TB2’s launchpad. His beautiful bird was rumbling along her runway. He felt a pang of loss. He hadn’t flown her in months.

She slowed to a stop on her launch pad and it rose, angling her into her optimal thrust position. He could almost feel her thrum beneath her fingers. Those adrenalin inducing moments before he engaged the main thrusters.

The thrust plate opened, ready to optimise her push against gravity.

He held his breath. Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

And she fired.

But only one of her thrusters ignited. The port side excited to full thrust, her starboard rocket flamed once and died.

“No!”

Physics took over. Thunderbird Two struggled at half thrust, her immense weight not gaining enough speed to get airborne. Her unequal push spun her off centre and kept her going just enough for her to slide inelegantly off the end of the platform sideways.

She came down hard and at an angle, her one thruster still pushing, friction sparks flying as she spun off the runway into the palm trees.

There was a god-awful crunch as reinforced cahelium met volcanic rock, and her single thruster finally died.

Thunderbird Two settled against the cliff, half hidden in a haze of exhaust and burning palm tree.

-o-o-o-

End Part Two

 


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Three  
> Part Three of Il Mago  
> Sequel to Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 18 Sep 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: “How can we trust him, if we don’t even know he is Virgil?”  
> Word count: 3267  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 and Sotto Voce  
> Author’s note: Wow, the whole part in one day…well, two minutes shy of midnight :D Many, many thanks for all those who have commented and liked, you are wonderful. I hope the fic lives up to your expectations. Things happen in this part :D I hope enjoy them :D  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

“Thunderbird One, return to base immediately.”

“John, what?”

“Scott, Thunderbird Two is down.” John’s voice was uncharacteristically tense. “We need you here. I’ve alerted the Guatemalan authorities. Please return to Tracy Island immediately.”

His brother sent a recording, and as Scott spun his ‘bird around, his stomach knotted up.

Gordon and Alan.

He hit his boosters and tore across the Pacific.

It took minutes, seemed like years, and he was on approach. He skipped the pool and took her into land beside her wounded sister.

His brother’s ‘bird was jammed up against the mountain cliff, smoke streaming off her thrusters, brush fire out of control all around her. A pod was clambering over downed palm trees spraying fire retardant foam, he assumed it was Virgil, his brother clearing a path to his ship.

As soon as TB1 was down, he grabbed his own stock of firefighting equipment and hit the tarmac running.

“Anything from Gordon and Alan?”

John. “Nothing. But I’m getting no ping from Thunderbird Two’s comm system, so it is likely down. I’ve tried a direct link to their comms via TB5, but still no response.”

“Any idea what happened?”

Virgil, breathing heavily. “Other than a thruster misfire, I’ve no idea. Eos and I cleaned out both thrusters just yesterday. They were performing perfectly this afternoon. Eos ran an inflight performance check over the Indian Ocean. There were no indications of any issues.” A grunt and the pod hatch opened. “I’m going in through her top hatch.” Virgil, dressed in his grey fire suit clambered out of the pod, and shot a grappling line, hooking it in TB2’s tail plane. With a leap he flung himself onto her starboard jet engine, pulling himself onto her flank.

Scott sprayed a dampening line along the track his brother had already made, and secured the pod. “John, can you get some water bots out here to take care of the rest of this brushfire. I’ll take care of TB2.”

“FAB.”

Scott sprayed foam liberally down the length of TB2, killing off the fire licking the crippled ship.

Another grunt over the comms and Virgil was standing on top of his ‘bird. Scott could just see his head.

“Alan!”

Virgil’s surprised and relieved shout had Scott climbing the pod to get a better view. Sure enough, there was his youngest brother…lugging an unconscious Gordon from the open hatchway.

Virgil reached down to help.

Alan flung out an arm and shoved. “Get away from him!”

The engineer stumbled in shock, and Scott was moving. His own grapple line wrapped around TB2’s tail plane and he was climbing.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?!”

There was no answer from Virgil.

Scott threw himself onto TB2’s roof. Alan was crouched over Gordon checking his vitals. Virgil stood motionless a few steps away.

Damn you, Alan.

“Virgil, secure Thunderbird Two.”

A whispered FAB and Virgil turned and climbed into the hatchway. The machinery hesitated a moment before lowering her pilot into the dark.

Scott grit his teeth and turned to Alan.

“Report.”

“Gordon hit his head when we fell. He was strapped in, but we hit the ground pretty hard. I think it was an impact with his headrest.” Alan drew in a breath and started coughing. “H-had to get him out.” Smoke was still drifting from the cockpit hatch.

Scott activated TB1’s remote and across the runway, his ‘bird fired up. “We’ll evac to the villa.” TB1’s VTOL fired, her landing gear retracted, and she moved to a hover above them. Scott deployed her external ladder, taking a moment to jump on board and grab a hover stretcher for his unconscious brother. Together, he and Alan moved Gordon to the stretcher and dragged him aboard Thunderbird One.

“Status, Virgil?”

“She’s not good. I’m reading a fluctuation in the starboard thruster. There is a lot of unburned fuel pooled in her intake. I’m going to have to evacuate it manually. She’s a fire hazard.”

“I’ll send Brains and John out here to help. Need to evac Gordon and Alan to the infirmary. You safe for the moment?”

“I’m good.”

“Keep me updated.”

“FAB.”

Retracting her ladder, Scott pushed TB1 into the sky and back to the villa.

-o-o-o-

There was no comforting evening meal that night. No gathering in the lounge. Virgil spent a good part of the night securing his ‘bird so she wouldn’t spontaneously combust. Both Brains and John wrapped themselves in fire wear and joined him, the runway lit by portable lighting as the sun finally dropped below the horizon.

Scott stayed with Gordon until he woke up. He was subdued and in pain with a throbbing headache, but only had a minor concussion. Both Gordon and Alan were suffering from some smoke inhalation, something which also aggravated Gordon’s headache to give him a little extra misery.

John and Scott dragged Virgil back to the villa at about two in the morning, his protests loud and numerous.

“She’s stable, Virgil. You’ve drained the fuel; the fires are out. She will be fine until morning.” John’s voice was calm and factual.

“But-“

“C’mon, Virg, it has been a shitty day. I’m sick of it. Let’s put an end to it.” Scott was damned tired as well. He still had a hand on his reluctant brother’s arm, and he dragged him to the comms room and pushed him towards the lounge. John followed and made a beeline for Dad’s desk.

Scott sighed and backtracked to the kitchen. He grabbed some leftover pizza and threw it in the microwave. Ten minutes later he returned to the lounge and dumped a plate of supreme in front of both Virgil and John. “Eat. Bodies need fuel to function.”

He dumped himself on to the lounge beside Virgil and ate his dinner.

Fifteen minutes later, Scott’s pizza was gone, Virgil had eaten two mouthfuls and John hadn’t even realised the food was there.

John was muttering to himself.

Virgil was staring into space.

Scott ran a hand over his face. “Is she okay?”

Virgil didn’t respond.

“Virgil?” Scott nudged him.

“Huh? What?”

“She okay?”

“Eos?” Scott nodded. “Still pissed at me, but the current situation overrides that. She’s running diagnostics on Thunderbird Two.”

“Anything?”

“Not a thing. She’s on her fifth cycle. Nothing. That thruster should have fired.”

Scott looked over his shoulder. “You have anything, John?”

His brother’s response was a negative grunt.

He turned back to Virgil and found him staring into space again.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m calling it a night.”

Neither responded.

Scott sighed and headed off to check on his youngest two brothers before a shower and bed.

-o-o-o-

“Found it!”

Virgil started out of a deep sleep. His face was mashed into something padded but hard and his neck was jammed at an awkward angle. Drool was sticky on one side of his face. Ugh

“Virgil. I found it. It’s smart, but not smart enough.” John? Huh?

_We’ve found traces of an electronic intruder._

_What?_

_Virgil, boot up. We found it._

_Found what?_

_Oh, you are so painful first thing in the morning. Get yourself some coffee and then maybe we can have a constructive conversation._

_Huh?_

She prodded him and he shot up on the lounge. “Augh, god. Eos.” His head spun, his neck, back and pretty much everything complaining about sleeping slumped over on the couch. He let his head drop back over the top of the lounge and stretched his shoulders. He raised his arm to check the time. “Six am?!” What the hell? He’d be lucky if he had had three hours sleep.

He tipped sideways again and tried to get comfortable on the too small couch.

_Virgil!_

_Go-way._

_Virgil, get up._

_No._

There was silence for a moment, then his mind was suddenly filled with Beethoven’s fifth symphony – the disco version.

_Wha-? Augh!_ He ground his hands into his eye sockets. Anger flared. “Turn it off! Now!”

Wake up!

No!

Yes!

“No! I’m sleeping!”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“Am.”

“Not.”

“Go-way.”

“Can’t”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Haveta.”

“Tired.”

“Sleep later, party now.”

“Don wanna party.”

“There will be cake…”

“Cake?”

“With cream.”

“Cream.”

“Chocolate and strawberries.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Yes, it does. Want some?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then get out of bed.”

“Okay.” He pushed himself vertical and it wasn’t until he opened his eyes to see a frankly stunned Scott Tracy paused mid-step halfway into the sunken lounge that his sleep fogged brain caught up.

“Wow, Eos, you’re a master. I gotta try that one next time.”

“Oh, god.” He fell over sideways again.

Beethoven upped his sub-woofer.

“Okay, okay, okay.” He struggled into a seated position again. “Turn that damn noise off.” Elbows on his knees he dropped his head into his hands. “This time of day should not exist.”

“It’s that whole physics thing.”

“Shut up and give me coffee.”

A deliciously warm mug was pushed into his hands and he inhaled its wonderful aroma before letting its scalding hot, life-giving energy infuse his system. Ohhhh, so good.

_You alive yet?_

_Shut up._

_I’m choosing to not take that personally._

_Good. I don’t have the energy for personally yet._

_You are ridiculous._

_On occasion._

“So why am I awake at this god-awful time of day?”

Scott was sitting next to him on the couch. “John has found traces of someone in our system.”

Virgil looked over at his brother, still sitting at Dad’s desk. “Did he go to bed last night?”

“Did you?”

“Point made.”

_You really do suffer from extended dopey._

He ignored her. “So what do we know?”

John spoke up. “Not much, but I do know that there was an intruder in our system at 1.12pm yesterday and again at 5.33pm last night.”

“Scott’s elevator and Thunderbird Two.”

“Yes.” He stood up. “Only the barest traces were present – I missed them on the first three scans. Whoever it is, they are very good at what they do.” John sighed. “I need to return to Thunderbird Five, both to cast a better net and to set up further defences. Eos is working on countermeasures in the meantime.” Walking past Scott, John stole his coffee, downed it in one long gulp, handed it back, and headed off to his space elevator.

Scott stared down at his mug in resignation.

“So Alan was right. Security has been compromised.” He didn’t want to think about what that meant for him. Perhaps it had been him after all.

_No-one will get to you, I promise._

_Eos._

_No-one._

He sighed. “God, this sucks.”

“Virgil.”

“I’ve got a Thunderbird to repair.” He put his mug on the table and left for the hangers.

-o-o-o-

Scott stared after him for a while, his thoughts whirling around inside his head. He was sick to death of feeling so powerless. There was very little he could do to help Virgil other than be there for him. So frustrating. His fists clenched.

Of course, that was the moment Alan chose to walk into the room.

Well, that was one thing he could set straight.

“We need to talk.”

There was immediately steel in his brother’s blue eyes, but he nodded once and sat down on the lounge furthest from Scott. He looked at the floor, his lips pressed firmly together.

“How are you feeling?”

Alan looked up as if surprised. “Okay.” His throat was obviously still a little dry as his voice had just a touch of hoarse.

“Good.” He swallowed. “I want to make something perfectly clear. I am well aware of the security risks, the multiple security risks, Virgil currently presents to International Rescue and our family. If you think John and Brains weren’t able to identify these issues as soon as the nature of the device in Virgil’s head presented itself, I need to question your belief in all of us, not just Virgil.” He drew in a breath. “We have been unable to find an immediate solution to the multiple issues other than the use of the isolator, which would see an end to Virgil’s participation in IR. Nor do we know the effects of its extended use. Our first priority has been Virgil’s health, mental and physical.”

Alan appeared to find the floor very interesting.

“So your concerns have been noted. As a solution has yet to present itself and you haven’t lifted a finger to help on any front. Yes, I know you have been avoiding him. Great one, Alan. A member of our family takes a life-threatening hit and you ignore him why he is down. Worse, without thought you then proceed to kick him.” Scott glared. “Yesterday, Alan, yesterday I truly thought you were that last straw. I thought he had climbed to the round house to solve all our problems by removing himself from the equation. Virgil is not an idiot, he can do the math as well, if not better than you, and nothing, NOTHING, is more important to your brother than the safety and care of this family. Including his own life. Think about it, Alan.”

“If you feel the need to accuse your brother in the future, I would appreciate it if you came to me or John first and present your facts in a logical and well thought out manner, minus the snark and immaturity. Also, professional conduct at the minimum is a requirement. You are not a kid any more, stop acting like one.”

Scott sighed. “This isn’t easy for anyone. Please don’t make it any harder.”

His youngest brother looked up at him. “So in the meantime we just have to hope that Virgil doesn’t turn into some kind of murdering zombie and kill us all in our sleep?”

“What do you expect me to do?!”

“Get him off the island!”

“He’s our brother!”

“I know!”

“So the first sign of trouble and you want to just cast him off?”

“We could have been killed yesterday!”

“Virgil didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Virgil would never-“

“But he’s not Virgil!”

“HEY!” Gordon stood outside the sunken lounge. “What the hell?”

Scott was trembling just slightly and his heart was racing. Alan was red in the face.

“No-one, I repeat, no-one is abandoning Virgil anywhere. I don’t care about the risks. We owe him our support and protection.” Gordon’s glare narrowed in on Alan. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather die by my brother’s involuntary hand, than contribute to his death. How would you like to be abandoned on the mainland, on your own, with that thing in your head, your only protection a gadget that cuts you off from all technology? Such fun to be had.” He turned to Scott. “And you, share the knowledge, bro. Alan might not have been so stupid if he knew we had it all in hand.” A breath. “And you know what is worst? I’m apparently turning into Virgil. Shut up, both of you, and give my poor head a break.” And he turned around muttering and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen.

Alan took one look at Scott, stood up and left, back stiff.

Scott sagged and let his head drop into his hands.

Damn.

-o-o-o-

John entered Thunderbird Five and let out a long relaxing breath. Oh, it was good to be home.

“Welcome home, John.”

“It is great to be here.” He let himself float for just a moment, revelling in the lack of gravity. “How goes the new countermeasures.”

“I’ve created new tracking software using what little we know about the perpetrator. If it gets in again, we may be able to trace it back to its origin. I’ve reinforced every pathway I can think of. I still haven’t determined how it got in or where, so I have done my best to cover all contingencies.”

“What about Virgil?”

“I have created a remote trigger that can deploy his isolator on command. It will separate him from the network should there be an intrusion.”

“Automatically?”

Eos hesitated. “Yes.”

“I know you hate that device. So do I, but it is his last defence.”

“I know.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m protected.”

“How?”

“Do you really expect me to tell you all my secrets?” Her tone was playful, but had an echo of serious.

“I expect you to be safe.”

“I will do my best.”

“Well, excuse me if I add a few defences of my own.” A small smile. “Call it parental prerogative.”

“If I had eyes, I would roll them at you.”

“I can see Virgil has had some influence on you.”

“Aren’t you glad that he is such a good one.”

John smirked. “That remains to be seen.”

“Is this where I say, ‘Daaaaad!’”

“Only if you want to prove my point.” He grinned. “But we should focus. Give me a read out on activity in E sector.”

They worked together smoothly for several hours. John had to admit that Eos had changed over the last few months. Many of her hard edges had been smoothed over. Her understanding of human nature had expanded dramatically, of course, learning the hard way, no doubt. She had grown, almost blossomed, her confidence expanding far beyond the terrified and persecuted soul she had been when they first met.

“John, I think I have identified another intrusion.” Eos was worried, he could hear it in her voice.

“Show me.”

Code flashed up. “Yesterday?”

“5.08pm. But this one is different. The code is more fragmented, which is why we missed it.”

5.08 yesterday afternoon. “What time did Virgil faint?” Shit. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

Eos flung the code onto his display. He scanned it. “Give me that last readout again.” John frowned. “That variable has changed from the last time I scanned this sector.”

“Investigating.” The code rippled. ”Uh, John?”

Something in her tone set of alarm bells. “Eos?”

“It doesn’t feel righ-“

“Eos?” No answer. “Eos?!”

-o-o-o-

Thunderbird Two’s cockpit smelt bad and Scott could feel the shuddering in the hatch mechanism as it lowered him to the floor. It hurt to see his brother’s ‘bird in this state. He may tease Virgil about his ‘big, green brick with wings’, but he secretly loved the security of the smooth machine at his back.

“Virgil?”

“Back here.”

The cockpit door was open so he stuck his head through to find Virgil sitting on the deck surrounded by pieces of disassembled Thunderbird. “She’s blown out all her primary circuit breakers. My guess is that is how Alan shut down her thruster, by killing them all. They are going to need to be replaced.” He sighed. “Just another thing to add to the list.” He clambered up off the floor and walked back into the cockpit, heading directly for the pilot’s dash. “Starboard thruster will need a complete overhaul, port side wing has been damaged, along with one of her VTOL engines and her landing gear is toast. She fell hard. We’ll have to go over her structural integrity with a fine-toothed comb. Don’t let me get started on her paintwork.”

Virgil looked back at him. “It is going to take a while.”

“But she will fly again.”

“While I’m alive, she will always fly.”

Scott snorted. “Way to be dramatic, Virg.”

“She lives for the drama.”

“O-okay.”

Virgil grinned at him. It was so off beat to the damage around them, Scott couldn’t help but grin back.

But his brother frowned, the grin dropping away. “Eos? Wha-?”

“V-“

Staring at Scott in surprise, Virgil collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

-o-o-o-

End Part Three

 

 


	4. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Two  
> Part Four of Il Mago  
> Sequel to Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 21-24 Sep 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: “How can we trust him, if we don’t even know he is Virgil?”  
> Word count: 3965  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 and Sotto Voce. Discussions of suicide.  
> Author’s note: This was painful to write. Between work snagging me, a day of ugh in there somewhere and five brothers who blew up in my face, it was a challenge. At this point I’m ready to throw my hands up over it and just let it out regardless. I’ve been staring at it far too long. I hope you find some enjoyment in it. I warn you, the angst meter exploded about halfway through the fic. I think I even managed to whump myself. ::wails:: Many thanks to @vegetacide who answered my frantic call despite the hour and helped me correct the flow of the fic and reassured me that I was doing okay :D (Thankyou International Writer Rescue :D)  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

_Virgil!_

Her scream shot through his mind like a bullet from a gun and suddenly she was everywhere.

He was breathing in the material of her dress, his hair was aflame with her anger, his ears rung with her screams.

_No! you can’t have him!_

There was light, searing light, red hair, pale skin. Fire.

And an inky black.

It dripped between the flames and where it touched him, it burned.

God, it burned.

He struggled pulling backwards, but there was nowhere to go. There was no way out.

Eos screamed his name again.

And eyes so green, so like her father’s, flashed in front of him, her expression one of pure terror. _Virgil, no!_

And he was being pulled forward. He was being pulled out. The light was blinding.

 _NO! YOU CAN’T!_ A blanket of roaring sound washed over him, taking all thought, taking everything.

He stumbled, a kiss brushed his cheek, and his world burst into flame.

He burned. Everything burned. A wind tore around him and whipped up all the darkness, wrapping it in white fire. It spun into a whirlwind, its ferocity shredding all before it as it tore away into the whiteness.

Virgil blinked and it was all gone. Silence. There was only white, pulsating white, pulling gently.

_Eos?_

No answer.

_EOS?!_

Nothing.

His breath hitched.

No. No. He felt around. She had to be here somewhere. _EOS?!_

He took a step backwards and stumbled again.

This time he fell.

-o-o-o-

“EOS!”

Scott yelped as his brother sat up suddenly, narrowly missing a painful headbutt. But a moment later, he had to hurriedly reach out and catch Virgil as he wavered, groaning.

“Eos, no. Hurts.” Virgil pushed the palms of his hands into his eye sockets. “No. No. No. Please. No.”

“Virgil.”

“No. No. Eos. No.” There was a note of hysteria in his voice so foreign to Virgil’s character, Scott’s heartbeat doubled.

“Virgil.”

Shock-filled eyes looked up at him. “She’s gone. I can’t find her. She’s gone!” Those eyes turned inwards, darting around in panic. “She’s gone. She’s gone. I have to find her.”

And his brother’s eyes rolled up in their sockets. This time Scott was able to catch him before he hit the floor.

-o-o-o-

There was white again.

It throbbed.

He felt around. She had to be here.

But there was nothing.

The white pulsed like a heartbeat.

He took a step in the direction of its pull.

And found himself elsewhere.

Virgil stumbled.

And he was peering down. Down into Thunderbird Five, his brother floating below. He blinked. “John?”

-o-o-o-

John looked up. “Virgil?”

The hub was drenched in code. John couldn’t find Eos. She simply wasn’t there.

But there was a single green light lit on her camera above.

He whipped up another window, accessing Eos’ support systems, the cradle that kept her safe on Thunderbird Five. The programs were functioning, but there was no sign of Eos.

Something else was being cradled. A mess of non-code. It ran like a river across his screen, completely unintelligible.

An invader?

He activated the computer’s security regime.

“Ow! What the hell? It bit me!” That single green light flickered.

“Virgil?!”

And the code he had spent so many hours writing to protect Thunderbird Five fragmented and collapsed. The multi-level program corrupted beyond repair.

“Virgil?”

“John?” That green light flickered again. “I can’t find Eos.”

John eyed the strange non-code. “Virgil, where are you?”

No answer.

“Virgil?!”

The lights flickered.

Hell.

“Virgil!”

Still no response.

John hit his comms. “Scott, where is Virgil?”

The voice that answered was hardly that of his level-headed eldest brother. “John? What happened? Virgil is unconscious. He was yelling for Eos.”

The lights flickered again and John swallowed. “I think he is up here.” Hesitant. “In the computer.”

“What?!” A harsh breath. “How is that possible?”

Still looking around somewhat nervously. “I don’t know.”

“What happened?!”

“As far as I can tell, there was an attack. I think Eos intercepted it.”

“You think?”

“It came through Thunderbird Five, but we weren’t the target.”

There was silence for a moment. “Virgil?”

“That would be my guess.” A shaky indrawn breath. “And Eos intercepted it.”

“Is she okay?”

The question struck him hard and he found himself struggling for control. “No.”

“John?”

Quiet. “I can’t find her.” It was starting to sink in now. Eos was gone, maybe forever. His heart skipped a beat. Then another.

“John?”

“I-“

A disembodied hand appeared on his shoulder and he startled, propelling himself backwards across the room. The hand grew an arm, a shoulder, a familiar green baldric appeared, blue uniform, solid boots, dark hair…all slightly transparent. A hologram.

Of Virgil.

“Are you okay?” It spoke, its lips moving, but its baritone voice issuing from the speakers above. Painfully familiar eyebrows were crumpling in concern. How the hell? “What?”

And it vanished.

The green light blinked out.

-o-o-o-

He was flung backwards and the white returned. It pulsed at him mockingly.

Eos?

But he no longer expected an answer.

A step...

And he found himself surrounded by his brother. Scott was holding him. Gordon was staring at him...fear on his face... “Gordon?” The sound of his own voice stabbed a knife through his skull. “Augh.” He instinctively curled in on himself, his fingers wrapping around his head, eyes squeezed tight. The pain throbbed at him mockingly.

Quiet. “Virgil, you with us?” A finger brushed the hair out of his eyes.

“Hurts.” God, it hurt. Scott’s arms tightened around him. He forced himself to breathe, gain control. “Eos. John.” He squeezed his eyes tight.

“John has it in hand.” Even in his confused state, Virgil could hear the lie.

“She’s gone.”

The arms around him pulled him just a touch closer.

Gain control. His head spun.

Gain control. He was sick of being so weak and such a burden. He forced himself beyond the throb of his head. “I have to-“

“Virgil, stay down.”

“No, I have to-“

Scott’s arms tightened, but Virgil was stronger than his brother. He pushed him off gently, but firmly, sitting up, his very bones protesting. “I have to find her.” TB2’s deck plating dug into his butt.

“How?” Scott’s voice was quiet, but desperate.

Virgil ran his hands over his face, fingers catching in his hair. “I don’t know.” But he had to. “Need to speak to John.” And with that he was struggling to his feet.

Two sets of hands helped him up. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” Both Scott and Gordon in harmony.

No, he wasn’t, but he’d make the best of it. Pounding head or not.

-o-o-o-

John’s voice was fragile. “I’ve lost her.”

Virgil sat on the lounge just like he had that morning, but the situation was so different. No spritely voice in his head, no laughter at his dopeyness, no niece in his head.

He closed his eyes.

Eos.

A step and he was in the white. It pulsed at him.

Another step and he was once again staring down at John. “John?”

The floating figure startled and spun to stare up at him. “Virgil, what are you doing?!”

“I’m so sorry.” He reached out to his brother and his hand appeared. John flinched, but Virgil reached out to touch him. He so wanted to hug him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

John had all the appearance of a deer stuck in headlights. “Virgil, what are you doing?”

“Virgil!” Scott.

He started and stumbled backwards.

White and the pain returned. “Augh.”

There were hands on his shoulders. “What did you do?”

“I-“

“He was here again.” John.

“How the hell is he doing that?” Gordon.

“That thing in his head.” Alan.

“State the obvious.” Gordon.

“Someone had to say it.” Alan.

“And yes, it always has to be you.” Gordon.

“No-one else here has the guts.”

“Alan!” Scott.

“I warned you.”

“Is this a ‘I told you so’? If so, save your breath.”

“So what are we going to do now? Some asshole is out there who has got it bad for Virgil and doesn’t care who gets in his way. Thunderbird Five’s security is down. Who gets shot down next?”

“I don’t see you offering any suggestions.” Gordon’s tone was scathing.

“I had a solution and you all shot it down!”

“Virgil stays here!” He had never heard Gordon so angry.

“And look what happened!”

“Alan!” John’s voice carried just that hint of space static, but it didn’t dull his fury. “Eos discovered a third breach of security yesterday. It struck while the isolator was on! It still reached Virgil, knocking him unconscious. If we had taken your suggestion and exiled Virgil, cutting him off from Eos, they would have him and he would likely be dead.”

There was silence after that. Virgil’s heart pounded, the pain in his head echoing it. It was obvious. If he had left, Eos would still be with them. He squeezed his eyes tighter.

“Virgil?” Scott’s voice was quiet yet desperate.

“I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Gordon was firm.

“Doesn’t change the fact that Eos is gone.” Eos is gone. The emptiness echoed in his head.

“Still not your fault.”

“What are we going to do? We’re sitting ducks.”

Virgil opened his eyes and latched them onto Alan. “Do you have any ideas, smart ass? Because other than shooting myself in the head, I’m all out of options.”

Everyone froze. Alan went white.

“No, Virgil. Don’t even think about it.” Scott looked as pale as Alan.

“Why not? You would be safe.” His eyes returned to Alan. “It would answer all of Alan’s concerns.”

Alan opened his mouth.

And Scott broke. “NO!” It was like the snapping of a tree in a storm. His blue eyes screamed pain and they were in Virgil’s face, hands on his arms. “DON’T YOU DARE!” Scott was shaking him, his grip hurt.

And then his brother was being dragged away, Gordon yelling his name. Alan had his other arm. His brothers forced Scott to sit down, Gordon shoving Alan out of the way to sit in front of him. “Scott, c’mon Virgil didn’t mean it.”

“Didn’t he?” There were tears in Scott’s voice. “Don’t you dare, Virgil. Don’t even think about it. We don’t give up. We will beat this bastard, together.” The words were rote. His brother falling back on their automatic mantra in distress.

_Virgil?_

He started, his thoughts immediately turning inwards.

_Eos?!_

But no, it wasn’t his niece. The voice was distinctly male. A familiar voice.

John.

He looked up at his brother in his hologram. He spoke his name again and it echoed in his head. Terror flared up. John was in his head.

_It is just me, Virgil, just my voice. I promise. We need to work out how this all works. We need to find a way to defend you._

_How?_

_I tracked you. I’m sending a simple data transmission. Voice only. If we can work out how this works, we can work out a way to prevent unwanted intrusion._

He fought back the bile. John was right. He stared at his brother’s hologram. The expression on his face was full of sadness and apology, but underneath that was love. He never thought it could be so blatant, particularly from his stoic, calm brother, hair blond, uniform black, simply because he cared.

“Guys.” His brothers looked up. “Do me a favour and tell me that that is John.”

Scott’s eyes were red and it was Gordon who stood up and walked over to the holoprojector and checked the signal’s origin. “Yep, that is definitely Johnny.”

“Good.”

 _We can beat this, Virgil. I promise you._ The intensity in his holographic eyes reached across the room and imprinted itself on his soul. _You hang in there, big brother._

_Okay._

And it was okay. For all of twenty seconds, when the signal from Thunderbird Five was cut dead.

-o-o-o-

“You are not going.” Scott glared down at Virgil. “You are staying here.”

“Doing what? Staring at the ceiling?” They had not been able to contact John, so a launch of Thunderbird Three was imminent, Alan and Scott to check on their brother.

“Recovering and staying safe.”

“I thought we had already decided that I am not safe, wherever I am.”

Scott ignored him, instead turning his attention to Gordon. “You stay with him. Make sure he stays put.”

There was no hint of humour on Gordon’s face, leaving it stark. “Will do my best.” He wrapped a hand around Virgil’s arm. “C’mon, bro.”

Virgil continued to glare at Scott. “You let me know the minute you find him. I want status updates every ten minutes.”

Scott pressed his lips together. “I will do my best.” He turned and sat on the lounge chair that would take him to TB3 and Virgil watched while the floor swallowed his eldest and his youngest brothers whole.

Ninety seconds later, Thunderbird Three burst forth from the round house, her exhaust drenching the outcrop, her roar echoing in his bones.

He sat back down on his couch and with a glance at Gordon, closed his eyes.

“Virgil.”

“What?”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

Gordon’s voice was pleading. “You know what I mean. Don’t you dare.”

“I’m not sitting here doing nothing. He’s my brother, too.”

“Don’t you think I know that. YOU are my brother. God, Virgil, how many times do we have to lose you?!”

Virgil swallowed. “I’m sorry, Gordon. I’m…” Frustration. “I’m just sick to death of being the liability.” And there was anger. Long supressed anger. “I’m not standing by. I’m not!”

Gordon stared at him, emotion swirling in his brown eyes. “Virgil, please don’t.” He was pleading.

Standing up, Virgil walked over to his brother and placed his hands on his shoulders. “Gordy, I have to. I’m not letting anyone else get hurt because of me. No more. Eos…Eos gave everything, I…I can’t let any of you…anyone, sacrifice anymore.”

Gordon gripped his arms. “You don’t know what it will do to you! And what the hell do you think you can do when you get up there? You don’t even know if you can get up there. Communication has been cut.”

At this point he no longer cared. “I have to try, Gordy.” Whisper quiet. “I have to.” He turned away, walking back to the couch.

“Virgil!”

“Gordon-“

“At least do this in the infirmary where I can monitor you.”

Virgil stared at his brother. In the infirmary Gordon could sedate him.

“Please.” Gordon stepped closer. “I can’t lose you again.” His hand caught Virgil’s elbow.

Searching his brother’s eyes, Virgil eventually nodded once. It was a matter of trust.

That one brother wasn’t willing to knock out the other, be it fist or tranquiliser.

Without another word, they made their way to the infirmary. Entering the tomb of a place, Virgil felt his mood drop even further. He had grown to hate this room.

Gordon groaned. “Scott’s going to kill me.”

Virgil managed half a smile at his brother. “Don’t worry, I’ll take the steam out of him first.”

“Assuming you’re alive to run interference.” Gordon’s tone was fatalistic.

Virgil’s smile disappeared.

Gordon looked up at him. “Make sure you come back otherwise it is my life that won’t be worth living. I’m still not convinced I shouldn’t just knock you out. It will be me who has to live with this, Virgil.” Quiet. “Please, I’m not sure I could.”

It was almost enough to stop him. The thought of Gordon...no he had to do this. “It will be fine.” A sigh. “And what if it turns out that I could have helped and our brothers were hurt because I didn’t?”

“We don’t know enough about the situation yet.”

“Exactly. That is what I need to find out.”

Gordon’s face fell cold. “Okay. Your choice.”

Virgil eyed him, but then climbed onto the bed. The bed’s automatic monitoring equipment engaged, the soft beep of his nervous heartbeat danced around the room. He settled onto his back. “Not your fault, Gordy. I would do this anyway.”

“Stubborn bastard.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Language, Gordon.”

“You better be okay or I’ll kick your artistic ass.” Gordon’s eyes were glistening.

Grabbing his hand, he dragged his brother close. “I’ll be fine.” A nervous swallow. “Love you, Gords.”

“Shit.”

Virgil just squeezed his hand and closed his eyes.

-o-o-o-

The white was no longer just white.

It was streaked with black and it pulsed erratically. Something had been damaged, but Virgil didn’t know enough to know what or how or even why. Hell, he didn’t even know where this was, other than Eos used to be here.

He took a step in the direction he thought he had gone before. A stumble and he was in that other place, hovering in the circuitry of Thunderbird Five, its white space as streaked with black, if not more than the space previous.

The hub room was below him, but unlike before, it was dark, lit only be emergency lighting. He felt around. He knew how TB5 worked. While Brains had designed her, Virgil had had considerable input, not to mention performing maintenance from time to time. While he didn’t know her an intimately as his ‘Bird, he knew her well.

Just not usually from this perspective.

There was power, he could discern that much. But he was guessing it was emergency power only. He stretched himself out, feeling for her controls. They had to be here somewhere. Eos had access, so he should too.

He reached…and pulled up another view, this one of the gravity ring. It was spinning slowly, almost Earth normal. John liked his gravity light and in small doses.

Another reach and he found one of the external cameras. In the distance he saw a smudge of red emerging from the atmosphere.

Thunderbird Three.

He hurried up. He hadn’t found John yet. He got a good feel for flicking between views. Moments later he worked out how to move the cameras.

And he found John.

On the floor of the hub room, out cold.

Scanners. Hook into his suit. Get vitals. He fumbled, looking for controls, attempting interface with software that wasn’t designed for his touch. Gentle, ever so gentle.

There. Read out. Alive. Thank god. Oxygen low. Shit. He didn’t have his helmet on. Where’s the damn atmosphere control.

Another flurry of frantic manipulation of digital switches and fresh air once again flowed into the hub room. He confirmed the seal on the door, digging up the readouts outside of the room only to find that oxygen was low across the station.

Who the hell had done this and why?

“Thunderbird Five, Thunderbird Three on approach. Please respond.” Alan.

Another fumble. Outgoing communication controls. He frowned. They were inoperative. Reaching beyond the controls and throwing himself into the code. Damn, a loop virus, catching the signals and stalling them in an eternal loop within the system. I swipe of anger and he obliterated the malicious code. A flick of a paintbrush and he rewrote the script that opened a channel.

“Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Three. We have a malicious digital incursion. Repeat a malicious digital incursion, do not dock.”

“Virgil? What the hell?” A predictably angry Scott.

“Kill me later. John is down. We need you in here.”

“Report.”

And he did, streaming clean code towards the huge red craft coming to a halt just off TB5’s starboard bow.

“It’s not Gordon’s fault.”

“You are damned right it’s not.”

Yeah, if this little adventure didn’t kill him, Scott was likely to do him the honour. “I’m sorry, I had to.”

“We will discuss this later.”

“FAB.” Or not so much. “He’s in the comms hub room. I’ve sealed the door. Oxygen content is low throughout the station. Clear signs of a digital incursion, purpose unclear. I’m….still working out how to do this.”

“Go home.”

“No. I need to be here.”

The silence at the end of the comm signal was ominous. He was so dead.

Why did he feel like a little kid who had followed his big brother to the fair?

“Gordon says your lifesigns are minimal. You are scaring the shit out of him, Virgil.”

That hurt. “Get in here, Scott.”

A pause. “Virgil, tell me who you found behind the barn in 2056.”

He thought a moment. “Peppers.” Now he hadn’t thought of that poor little cat in years. “Now get in here.”

He didn’t have to say it as a split second later, one of TB3’s arms extended and magnetically locked to TB5’s hull. Not in docking position, but directly attaching onto the comms module. Two figures appeared, one in blue-gray, the other streaked with red. and pulled themselves along the length of her arm, aiming for the docking module.

Virgil crawled through the circuitry, reaching for the docking controls. A flick of a finger and the outer airlock opened. His brothers entered and he cycled the lock before jumping to the sensors in the docking corridor.

Blue eyes snapped up at the camera the moment he connected.

Nothing was said. He followed them through the centre of the satellite.

-o-o-o-

Scott was almost paralytic with fury. How could Virgil do this to them?

As he pushed himself down the corridor towards the hub room, lights flickered on. A distorted version of his brother’s voice spoke over the comms. “Returning atmosphere mix to normal.”

Doors opened as they approached. Alan hadn’t said a thing, but he was eyeing the camera that was following them suspiciously.

They found John half-conscious in the hub room. He was calling for Eos. A quick examination revealed a small head injury. Alan grabbed a spinal board and neck brace, securing his brother.

“Checking logs.” Virgil sounded preoccupied. “A digital incursion cut communications, quickly followed by a forced evac of atmosphere. Damn. John managed to seal himself in here, but not before being thrown across the room.”

“Any sign of the intruder.”

“Plenty, this place is streaked in black.”

He blinked. “Repeat, Virgil.”

“The white of this place is streaked in black.” A pause. “Very little proof in the code. John will need to look at it.”

Okay. Explanation later. “We need to evac John to Thunderbird Three. I need you to go home, Virgil.”

But Thunderbird Five shook and the hub room shifted several feet sideways. Alan and John collided with him, throwing them all into an uncontrolled spin.

-o-o-o-

Virgil sensed it before he realised what was happening.

A bolt of energy tore towards the station, targeting the single leg Thunderbird Three had connected to the satellite. It hit in a blinding flash, its power not enough to sever the leg, but enough to dislodge its magnetic connection to TB5 and cause a rebound that shifted the station sideways. TB3 spun in the opposite direction, tumbling away, uncontrolled.

“Alan, grab Thunderbird Three, we’re under attack!”

He tore through the satellite, pulling up information as he moved. Cameras and sensors reported a small ship approaching on their bow. Virgil threw down all the security he could find on all the airlocks. He sought out thruster controls, checked power reserves and brought the gravity ring to a halt.

There were no weapons on TB5, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t equipment that could be used as such. Eos had taught them much the day they had met.

The ship was tiny in comparison to TB3. Three lifesigns registered on sensors. Virgil checked on his brothers. John was secured. Alan was stabilising TB3. Scott was speaking on his comms.

“Guys, I think we are about to be boarded. Three lifesigns.”

The small craft approached and without hesitating latched itself onto Thunderbird Five’s comms module.

Sparks flew as it cut into her hull.

-o-o-o-

End Part Four.

 


	5. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: One  
> Part Four of Il Mago  
> Sequel to Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 24-28 Sep 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: “How can we trust him, if we don’t even know he is Virgil?”  
> Word count: 1714  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 and Sotto Voce.   
> Author’s note: This one is shorter than usual, but it called for a cut there. We have almost made it. One more chapter and possibly an epilogue and this fic will be complete :D I think it is time for Virgil to kick some butt.  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother. 
> 
> -o-o-o-

They cut a hole in the number five of Thunderbird Five’s forward identification panel. The artist in Virgil was offended, but then cutting anywhere into any Thunderbird would likely cause the same reaction.

It was obviously the first step in a two-part boarding operation. First, they would need to get through the hull. That would give them access to Thunderbird Three’s docking port. The doors between the main body of the command module would be their next target.

And damn they were moving fast.

He flinched as sensors were cut and circuitry short circuited under their cutting beams.

His brothers were still in the command module. “Scott, they’re coming in through the side of the docking port. Cutting lasers.” Virgil ran scenarios through his head with the tools he had available at hand. “Recommend you evacuate to the gravity ring or the elevator.”

Scott was looking up at the camera he had obviously labelled as his brother, his expression intense. “We are not abandoning Thunderbird Five.”

“I never said we should. I have an idea, and I would be happier if the three of you were safe elsewhere.”

“Tell me.”

So as fast as possible, Virgil relayed the first idea that had come to mind. “TB3 can pick them up later.”

Blue eyes were still staring up at the camera. “Do it. But I’m staying here. Alan, evac John to the elevator. Find him a helmet. Seal yourselves in and be prepared to launch if necessary and cross to TB3. Virgil, do you have a backup plan?”

There was another option, plus a further diversionary tactic, but he wasn’t as confident. Scott’s answer was simple. “Work it out. If they get in here, they’ll have me to contend with.”

“Scott-“

“Do it, Virgil.” It was that command voice, the one that demanded compliance. IR field commander in the raw.

“Yes, Thunderbird One.”

The blue eyes narrowed just slightly, before waving Alan and John through the doors to the gravity ring and sealing them behind them.

Virgil turned his attention back to the invaders. They were almost through.

If he had breath, he would have drawn it in. Reaching out to the atmosphere regulators, he redirected extra air into the docking port increasing the air pressure well beyond normal. Accessing the computational power of the main computer he calculated exactly how much pressure he could put on the docking port section. Brains shone through again with some great numbers coming up. He could do this.

He cranked the pressure up.

Consequently, when the cutters finally broke through, an explosive decompression tore into the invading ship.

Yelling reached his sensors.

Unfortunately, moments later the first of those three lifesigns entered Thunderbird Five through the jagged hole they had cut in her side.

Stage one of their initial line of defence had failed.

He waited, still pumping in air quietly, bringing the pressure slowly back up.

The first person was dressed all in black, some kind of body armour over his spacesuit. He wore no identifying marks. Virgil channelled the video directly to his brothers, Gordon included.

“Who the hell are these people?”

Two more people emerged, one possibly female. The first attached a device to the airlock between the docking port and the main command module.

The moment all three were clear of their ship, Virgil opened the exterior airlock.

Highly pressurised air shot out the end of the docking port like a gun. One man was thrown out immediately, his body spinning into space. Unfortunately, the other two invaders managed to grab hold of TB5 and ride out the tornado.

“One down, two to go.” He whispered it over Scott’s comms.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared at his brother’s body. And it was only a body. It breathed, its heart beat, but Virgil was gone. The lights were on but no one was home.

Above hung the projections from Thunderbird Five. That same brother was funnelling a live feed to Tracy Island so Gordon could see what was going on.

His fingernails bit into his skin as his fists clenched.

Full life support equipment was on standby. He didn’t know what might happen. He may not need any of it, but, damn, he was going to be prepared.

Why had he let him go? He should have sedated him.

Yeah, little Gordy take on his massive big brother? He could have done it, but there would have been sacrifices, trust being the most painful.

Yet now he sat staring at the remains of his brother - he wasn’t sure what would hurt more. At least Virgil would have been safe.

While his brothers faced the mess on Thunderbird Five.

Damn.

It really sucked to be the one left behind.

-o-o-o-

It took Virgil two attempts to harness the right charge and redirect it to electrify the airlock the remaining two invaders were attempting to disable.

The device they had attached to the doors fell dead. If there had been atmosphere, Virgil had no doubt there would have been sparks and fire to accompany it.

The remaining black suited man inadvertently came in contact with the doors. He convulsed and was flung across the port to float senseless near the open airlock.

“Two down, one to go.”

The last one, the female, didn’t even acknowledge the fall of her companion, she simply braced herself against the wall of the port, unholstered a weapon and fired at the doors.

“Shit! Take cover, Scott!”

He could only watch as she fired the gun, a bolt of energy, smaller but similar to the one that had disconnected TB3 earlier.

The results were immediate. The airlock ruptured, the air pressure inside flooding out in a gush. The insensate second man was pushed out into space. The woman clung to her position.

“Scott! Report!” He ran his fingers over the damage alerts screaming for attention. The comms module was a fragile and precise piece of instrumentation, the core of the satellite. Alarms battered at him as several of those systems crashed.

Plan C came to the fore and he checked the holoprojectors in the hub room. The majority were still functioning.

“Scott?!”

“Status ok. Deploy the diversions.” It was whispered, and he watched his brother moving around the edge of the circular room.

He began dishing out holograms, working the projectors to their maximum and hiding his brother from the view of the woman now edging into the room. Pushing himself forward, he appeared floating in front of her.

When she caught sight of him, her expression was far from alarmed, she barely acknowledged his existence.

His voice was cold. “What do you want?”

She raised an eyebrow, but ignored him, moving forward into the room.

He flickered out and reformed again in front of her. “What do you want?”

Again she dismissed him, an offhand wave passing through his abdomen as she passed him.

He followed her. “I don’t know what you think you can achieve.”

This time she did look at him, but her expression was so cold and lacking emotion, he almost wished she hadn’t.

But it gave Scott the moment he needed to leap through the cascading holograms hiding his presence and plough into her.

Her response was immediate. Even in zero gravity she obviously possessed some serious self-defence skills. Scott was proficient in zero gravity, but it wasn’t his strength. John would have been the better choice, but he was incapacitated.

Virgil flung holograms at her, forcing obstructions to appear before her face, interrupting her flow to give Scott the best chance he could.

He was weaving her a holographic hood when something at the edge of his sensory range flickered and stirred.

Something black and painful came out of nowhere and ripped him from his reality, flinging him out of Thunderbird Five’s cradle and back into the black streaked white of that other space in between everything.

Virgil reeled, his mind spinning. There was inky black that burned and that glowing white pulsing out of sync. Someone screamed his name.

He tried to run, to go back to TB5, but his way was blocked. To go back to himself, but he was surrounded by black. Inky, stinking black, writhing like oil on water reaching out to him. Where it touched, it burned.

Virgil yelled, struggling, then as the black got a good grip, the yell turned to a scream.

-o-o-o-

Gordon jumped as every alarm attached to his brother suddenly started blaring.

Rushing to his side, he had the horrible experience of watching Virgil die before his eyes. Everything ceased, breathing, heartbeat, even his brain activity plummeted.

“Brains!” He called out to the only other inhabitant of the island as his training kicked in.

The engineer tore into the room just as Gordon applied the cardiostimulator to get his brother’s heart beating again.

“Breathe for him!”

-o-o-o-

Virgil couldn’t think. The black was all enveloping. It penetrated his soul, drilling deep into the core of who he was, tearing, burning, destroying as it gained purchase.

In desperation he struck out.

A blue-white beam of light pierced the black, shredding it with his desperation. Whiting it out. Grabbing the opportunity, he pushed himself further and his world lit up with blinding blue and green, bleeding white.

The black slunk backwards, there was sound, an inarticulate snarl, and the mass of writhing tentacles shrunk in on itself. The white background once again became dominant.

Virgil slumped, staggering backwards, energy expended. He watched as two figures emerged from the coalescing black. A man…and a bound woman, red hair, white dress and bruises.

“Well, well, well. You do have some fight.” The man walked towards him across the ever pulsing white. Virgil edged back, but his eyes couldn’t leave the sight of his battered and bound niece.

_Eos_. His mental voice was little more than a whisper.

“Oh, is that what you call her? A fiery little thing, isn’t she?”

Virgil turned his full attention to the man. He was ordinary looking, nothing special. Dark hair, perhaps a little older than Virgil. Unremarkable.

Unfamiliar.

“Who are you?”

A smirk. “Oh, I have many names, most you will never know. I’m just the wizard behind the curtain.” An intensity in his eyes and his smile deepened.

“Il Mago.”

-o-o-o-

End Part Five.


	6. Ignition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Ignition  
> Part Six of Il Mago  
> Sequel to Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 28-30 Sep 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: “How can we trust him, if we don’t even know he is Virgil?”  
> Word count: 3383  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 and Sotto Voce  
> Author’s note: and here be the last chapter. I have started writing the epilogue, but I don’t think it will be big enough to fulfill all the feels, so there will be more Tales of Sotto Voce in the future, particularly regarding poor Scott. Thank you all for your wonderful support. I really do hope you enjoy this.  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

Virgil disappeared. And all his interfering holograms went with him leaving the circular room an empty shell.

Scott dodged the intruder’s thrust, swinging himself around to jab her firmly in the side as he called out to his brother. “Virgil!”

No answer.

Hell.

Grabbing the struggling woman’s arm, he attempted to bend it backwards and up to immobilise her, but she either had an extremely high threshold for pain or didn’t feel it at all. Kicking out she tripped him mid-air, flipping him bodily over her and almost reversing their positions. Scott twisted enough to bring up a fist and slammed it into the side of her helmet. She lost her balance and fell sideways into one of the walls.

He grabbed the opportunity. Never afraid to back down from a superior opponent, Scott slammed open the inner airlock and pushed himself through, fighting against the brief decompression of the connecting corridor. He struggled to turn as fast as possible and shut it in her face.

He whipped out his laser cutter, altered its setting, and melted the hatch shut.

It wouldn’t hold her for long, but hopefully it would be long enough.

Slapping the atmosphere regulator at the other end of the connecting corridor, he re-pressurised the tube before opening the locks into the gravity ring.

He sealed those behind him too.

“Virgil? Are you there?” No answer.

Coasting along the ring, he desperately tried to think of how to get the woman out of the comms module. She couldn’t stay there. She would only break in again.

He had to kill the power to the module.

“Virgil!” Still no answer. Something in his stomach twisted. He hit his comms. “Gordon, status!”

The voice that came back from far below was his professional but frantic younger brother. “Busy, Scott. Brains, we are going to need the ventilator.” A voice said something he couldn’t understand. “He is not responding! He needs life support.”

The something in his stomach tore. “Gordon!”

“Virgil is…critical, Scott. I can’t talk. Will report asap. Tracy Island out.”

And his world fell silent and still.

A moment.

Another.

And he moved. No time.

Halfway to the controls he was slammed to the glass floor as the gravity ring abruptly started spinning.

Fast.

-o-o-o-

“What is it with you nut jobs and your names?” Exasperation. “The Magician, really? And what’s with the Italian? Is it cooler in a different language?”

The man didn’t react, which in turn surprised Virgil. Usually megalomaniacs were easy to bait. The Hood was useless if you told him his shoes didn’t match his handbag. He had been easy to get going.

Maggot didn’t even blink.

Virgil took another half-step backwards, suddenly lightheaded.

Whatever. “So, what do you want?”

The man stared at him calmly, his expression appraising Virgil. Eos said nothing, but her eyes bore into her Uncle’s, her fear for him obvious. A moment later, Mago’s expression shifted to one of decision. “You don’t need to know what I want.” He raised a hand and the black writhed out from his fingertips, solidifying and slicing through the white as if to cut Virgil in half.

Eos screamed.

Virgil moved.

He jumped up, his own hands thrusting out, a sputtering of blue-white breaking through the black protrusion and amputating its end.

Maggot gasped and snarled, the black fast retreating back into his body.

Virgil straightened. He could learn. That was one thing he was very, very good at.

And this wasn’t his first virtual argument.

Unconsciously, his exo-suit formed over his body, the claws extending out from his arms.

His eyes narrowed on his opponent.

But apparently Maggot wasn’t particularly impressed, returning to his earlier half-ignored disdain. “You are forgetting something, Virgil.” His name on the man’s lips sent a chill down his spine. “I hold all the cards.”

The black shot out from his hand again, but this time he wasn’t aiming at Virgil, but behind him. The white parted and Thunderbird Five appeared below. Scott on the gravity ring.

It began to spin.

Virgil didn’t hesitate. He flung himself back towards the space station, reaching for the computer code to halt the spin.

“Virgil, no!” Eos.

Black wrapped around him and he screamed. Dangling above the code Virgil struggled to reach, the black began to squeeze. “You have no idea what is possible. I will get what I want and you won’t. It is as simple as that.”

“Why?!” It was forced from him. Why? Why? Why? Why did these assholes all want to hurt his family? Why? All he and his brothers wanted to do was help people.

“Because I want to.”

It was a simple answer.

“Let him go!”

“Why, little byte. What is he to you?”

Virgil struggled to reach the controls. After this, that damn gravity ring was getting some manual safety locks to prevent this stupid thing from ever happening again, no matter what John said.

The controls were just out of reach, his claws grabbing at nothing.

The black tightened around him, its heat unbearable.

Scott was spread-eagled on the glass, unable to move. Virgil couldn’t hear him, but he could see the pain on his face.

No. No, you bastard.

Virgil reached.

Reached.

Blue-white struck out from the ends of his fingers and smashed into the gravity ring controls, corrupting its functioning program. Sparks flew as the mechanism disengaged, failure safeties cutting in.

The ring began to slow.

Black crawled across his chest, curling up around his neck. “You are a fast learner.” It tightened, searing into his skin.

“Virgil!”

“It is fine, little byte, he won’t feel a thing.”

“No!”

_Eos._ He breathed her name, closed his eyes and concentrated.

The blue-white light returned. It swelled out from him, blinding in its intensity. The black disintegrated around him.

Virgil levitated back into the pulsing white, hovering in front of the Magician like an avenging angel.

Mago took a step backwards, his movement dragging the chain he had tied to Eos. He simply raised an eyebrow. “A bit showy, don’t you think?”

“Get out.”

“No, I still have some unfinished business.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “And I still have some cards to play.” A smirk. “How many brothers do you have to spare?”

-o-o-o-

Scott’s voice was urgent over the comms. “Alan, evac to Thunderbird Three. Now!”

John was still not quite conscious. Alan had him secured to a spinal board, helmet in place.

TB3 was hovering near the station, stabilised from her earlier tumble. He accessed her remotely and moved her just that bit closer, activating his sled and directing it over to the elevator’s airlock. Dragging it in, he secured John’s board and hopped on. He needed to make this transit as fast as possible.

Halfway across the empty expanse between breathable atmospheres, his brother’s voice broke over his comms.

“Hello, Alan.”

“Virgil?”

“Yes, it is your beloved brother, Virgil.”

It was mocking, it was Virgil’s voice. It wasn’t Virgil.

Alan accelerated to maximum. They were vulnerable out here.

“Where do you think you are going?” And his sled died.

Shit! Fortunately, the sled kept its momentum so he was still moving. Unfortunately, he now had no way to stop. Thunderbird Three loomed red in his vision.

“Leave him alone!”

The yell was enough to make his ears ring. But it was so Virgil, he could have cried.

The sled fired up, sputtering, and their plummet towards collision slowed.

“You don’t think it is that easy, do you?”

And the sled accelerated.

Alan swore again, reaching down to physically grab John.

His path wobbled and he had no doubt that there was a battle happening somewhere in virtual space with John and himself as the prize. He desperately tried to think of something that could break him out of the equation, but the z-band network was integral to all their operations. Even if he could sever the connection fast enough, he would then be helpless.

He had to rely on Virgil.

“So, Virgil, what are they worth to you?”

“Everything, you bastard.”

And the line fell dead.

As did his sled.

-o-o-o-

“Everything, you bastard.” His voice was cold, but as the space filled with the roar of VTOL, hot air, and green flickered at the edge of his vision, he swelled, letting his anger and fear power him. His claws extended and he flew at the man below.

The man below disintegrated into black ink and met his charge.

There was burning and the smell of charred soul. Virgil screamed.

“Not that easy, you fool.”

A gasp. “Never said it would be.” He flipped in midair, wrapping blue-white around stinking black, smothering and cutting. “You hurt Eos.” A claw grabbed a body and squeezed. Virgil grunted as black scored across his face. He dug his other claw in. “You hurt my brothers.” Black struggled, and somewhere deep inside, Virgil’s artistic soul screamed retribution. “You hurt my FAMILY.” And all he saw was rage. Black writhed beneath his fingertips, Thunderbird Two roared in his mind, and VTOL burned the air.

He felt the other man’s sudden fear, but for the first time in his life, Virgil was beyond sympathy. This was the source of his fear, of Alan’s fear, of the fear in his brothers’ eyes when they looked at him. This was the man who had done this to him. He knew that. The black screamed it at him. He was the source of all those months of pain and terror. It was his fault.

Virgil gripped the black in both claws.

And then he tore.

It was Mago’s turn to scream.

Black whipped around him, struggling to get free. His terror washed over Virgil. VTOL roared.

“Virgil!”

He looked up. Eos was signalling him in the direction of Thunderbird Three, still visible through the pulsing white.

“Alan!”

It only took that millisecond of distraction and Mago wrenched from his grip. Virgil struck out and caught him a glancing blow, attempting to regain his hold, but the black slithered away. A flash of fear and he was gone.

The chain linking him to Eos, tightened, dragging her with him.

“No!” Virgil dove, reaching out. Sparks flew and the chain was severed by a beam of that same blue-white.

Eos, didn’t hesitate, scrambling back from where Mago had disappeared. She turned to him. “Alan!”

Virgil didn’t hesitate, reaching out across the network to his brother’s sled, firing it up and breaking its fatal plunge into the hull of TB3.

Taking a virtual breath, he carefully manoeuvred the little craft into the open maw of Thunderbird Three’s pod bay.

Linking to the comms network, he contacted his youngest brother. “Alan, are you okay?”

There was a delay, but his wait was rewarded by Alan’s laboured breathing a moment later. “Virgil?”

“Yeah, bro, it’s me. Are you and John okay?”

“As best we can be.” A pause. “Is it gone?”

It was Virgil’s turn to pause. “I’ll get back to you on that.” The light-headedness was back. “See to John, and then get ready to pick up Scott.”

A little hoarse. “FAB.”

He hailed his eldest brother. “Scott?”

“Virgil?! Are you okay?” A split-second pause as big brother was replaced by field commander. “Report.”

“Digital invasion nullified for the moment.” He knelt down to untangle Eos from her bonds. A frown as he discovered exactly how that bastard had managed to hold her so securely. He looked up and found green eyes fixed on him. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“Virgil?”

Damn, over an open comm. “Eos is injured. Report momentarily. Virgil out.” He cut the connection.

Eos held up her arms. Thick black stitches marched up the inside of her forearms, their base joining at her wrists, stitching them together.

Virgil hesitated. “Can John...?”

“Uncle, please?” There were tears in her eyes.

He swallowed. How? He reached out a tentative hand, his fingertip brushing against the black of the stitching. He concentrated, a spark of blue-white disintegrated the stitch.

Eos gasped.

Virgil felt like sweating. He looked up at her again.

“Please, Uncle.”

Another virtual breath.

Blue-white flared in his hands.

-o-o-o-

Scott’s lips thinned enough to disappear. He didn’t like waiting.

Or worrying.

“Alan. Status?”

“Aboard Thunderbird Three. John is stable and secured.” A pause. “You?”

Scott was standing in front of a holoprojector watching their last intruder test the seal on the inner airlock in the comms module. “Secure for the moment. We still have an intruder in the command module.”

“Have you heard from Virgil?”

“Yes. Eos is injured. He is attending to her.”

“Anything from Gordon?”

Scott hesitated. “Nothing good.”

There was silence over the line for a moment. Scott kept his eyes on the intruder. “Alan, keep sharp. I don’t know what this intruder might do.”

And as if he had heard her, she turned and made her way towards the broken doors to the outer airlock. “She’s on the move. Stay sharp.” He tracked her as she coasted into the airlock, turning abruptly to re-board her ship. “She’s boarding her ship. Any way you can disable it? That thing has firepower.”

“Leave it to me.”

He could hear his brother’s anger.

-o-o-o-

Alan was sick of being scared. In fact, Alan was royally pissed.

His system was still reeling from their near collision with his ship, adrenalin setting him on edge.

He would be quite happy to punch something or someone.

Sitting in his pilot’s seat he grabbed at his controls. So, it came down to TB3 versus stupid, black and stealthy. He knew his ‘bird. She was subtle, but tough.

He spun her around, positional thrusters firing as he brought her up an over her sister and into view of the invader craft.

It was disconnecting from TB5. Alan didn’t hesitate.

Three red arms.

He reached down and grabbed the small craft.

It didn’t like it. If it hadn’t been in vacuum, there would have been some horrible metal on metal screeching. It fired its thrusters, fighting against Three’s grip.

Alan fired all three grappling hooks point blank.

The little ship trembled and a cloud of atmosphere escaped out of the sudden hull breaches. “That’s for Thunderbird Five.”

He checked for life signs. One still existed inside the craft.

One last thing.

Untangling one of his arms, he located the source of the energy bolt from earlier, flipping the ship around to give him access and acting fast to prevent an attack should the life sign still be conscious.

“This is for Thunderbird Three.” And the arm came down on the weaponry outlets, the tough rescue craft making scrap metal out of the scout’s external ports.

He returned the arm to its former grip and with a grimace and not a little grunt, started pulling the little craft apart.

“And that is for Virgil Tracy, you waste of space.”

“Alan!”

“Ship disabled, Thunderbird Five. You might want to call in the GDF to come pick up the remains.”

One life sign still bleeped on his monitor. He tried not to feel disappointed.

 -o-o-o-

Eos ended up in his arms crying.

Virgil had his eyes closed, the light-headedness making him almost dizzy.

The stitches were gone, but it had hurt. Both of them.

He needed to get John to check on her. He had no real idea what he was doing. He could program and he could see code from this perspective and manipulate it, but he was not John. Not her father.

And he had to go home.

He could feel himself pulling back.

“Honey, you have to go. I-I have to go.”

She looked up at him sharply, her eyes red, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “Uncle?”

He reached out and touched the pulsing white. It was more familiar to him now, the throb of transmission, the balance of the network, his understanding continued to grow.

Maggot had no idea what a gift he had managed to give in his attempt to kill him.

The white parted and Virgil hooked into the network on Tracy Island, this time taking Eos with him. She stumbled at first, disorientated and injured, but there was no way he was leaving her on Thunderbird Five alone. John would be heading to Earth, he could help her here.

Spreading himself across the home network, he saw his home from a perspective he had never seen before. The rooms were all empty, but he knew that. He knew where Gordon would be. That was one room he didn’t look into.

Not yet.

He found the main server, looking for enough space, grabbing a copy of the cradling software, executing it and placing his wilting niece into its embrace.

He kissed her forehead. “I have to go.”

She drew him in. “Thank you, Virgil.”

“I’ve sent John an alert. He will help you as soon as he is able.”

She blinked, accessing information. “He is onboard Thunderbird Three.” She smiled, finally able to reach out across the network, reach her family. A frown. “He has a concussion.”

“He hit his head.”

A spark of anger flared up in her.

“C’mon, Eos, rest. He will be okay. You need to power down and keep calm.” A beat. “I need to go.”

She frowned at him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” A small smile. “Definitely better now you are safe.” Distract her. He suspected he wasn’t as good as he felt.

The dizziness returned.

“I have to go.”

He stood up and reached across the network.

A whisper. “Love you, Uncle Virgil.”

He closed his eyes.

The world spun.

He found the monitors for the infirmary and stared down at himself.

Gordon was alone in the room beside his bed.

Tears were running down his face.

“Scott, he’s on full life support. I can’t get any response out of him.”

“Gordon, I spoke to him not even half an hour ago. He is still out there.”

“Well, he better damn well get back here. I don’t know what happened. He was fine, but then everything just crashed. He’s not breathing on his own. I’ve had to restart his heart twice.” A sob. “What if he comes back and can’t get back in? What if he comes back and the damage is too extensive? What if he can’t get back at all?”

The questions bounced off the walls vibrated his soul. So many what ifs.

“Gordon, I don’t have the answers. We just have to trust Virgil.”

“He has no idea what he is doing!”

“As far as I can tell, he just kicked an intruder’s ass. Give him some credit.”

Virgil accessed the comline, sending network-wide. “Hey, guys?”

The response was immediate. “Virgil!!” From the infirmary and Thunderbird Three. “Are you okay?”

“Been better, it looks like.” A virtual swallow. “Sorry, Gords.”

Gordon stared up at the camera. “You better be. Get your ass back down here so I can kick it.” He scrubbed his hands across his face.

Virgil didn’t have the energy to reach for TB3. “Scott, how are Alan and John?”

“Alan is fine. He managed to kick some intruder’s butt himself. John is awake. Splitting headache, but getting there.” A pause. “Eos?”

“I’ve got her down here. That bastard he...” A wave of dizziness. Damn. “John, you there?”

“I’m here.” A tired, pain-filled voice.

“She’s injured, John. I had to...” A virtual breath. “You need to check her code. I had to hack him out of her. The bastard- “ Emotion flared, blue-white light bloomed in his vision. The lighting in the infirmary flickered. One globe sparked and fizzed out.

Gordon jumped.

Virgil forced himself to calm down. “Shit. Sorry.” Another breath. “John, she needs help. Help I can’t give her.” His world doubled, blurred and wavered.

Concentrate!

“I’ve got to go.”

Gordon jumped up. “Virgil, you get back here now.” An alarm shrieked beside him. “Now, Virgil! Don’t you dare do this to me!”

He had to go. “Do my best.” And what is important. “Love you guys.”

And fumbling he reached out for home. It was here somewhere. Here? Here? No.

The white pulsed.

Here?

It was here somewhere, goddamnit.

Like groping unseeing in the dark, but the dark was white.

Reach.

Touch.

Oh, thank god.

He relaxed back into familiarity.

And everything went dark.

-o-o-o-

End Part Six

 


	7. Launch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Launch  
> Part Seven of Il Mago  
> Sequel to Sotto Voce  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 30 Sep - 5 Oct 2018  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: “How can we trust him, if we don’t even know he is Virgil?”  
> Word count: 4783  
> Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 and Sotto Voce.   
> Author’s note: And here we are at the end. I so hope you have enjoyed reading this. Thank you so much for all your wonderful support ::hugs you all::  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

The worst part of any illness could be the waiting. Or it could be the not-knowing. Or the illness itself. Or the pain.

Or, what the hell, the whole thing sucked.

Scott made it back to Earth with Alan and John about an hour after Virgil’s last transmission to find Virgil still on life support. He had gone into cardiac arrest yet again when that alarm had shrieked during their conversation.

John took one look at his unconscious brother, briefly touched his hand, but said nothing. He then locked himself in a room with Eos.

Alan cleaned himself up from the mission, but postponed repairs on Thunderbird Three - she needed several, particularly to her arms. Instead he set up camp next to Virgil and wouldn’t be moved.

Scott, sitting on the other side of his prone brother, had attempted to speak to him, but Alan clammed up, refusing to say anything. He simply sat staring at Virgil as if he could force the man back to consciousness with his glare.

Gordon had been emotional. He couldn’t forgive himself for letting Virgil upload himself in the first place. He should have sedated him. He should have knocked him on his ass.

Scott tried to corner him, but the only person who could give the man release was Virgil himself.

And Virgil wouldn’t wake up.

It wasn’t until the next day that John emerged from his cave looking absolutely awful, but accomplished. The reason for this was immediately made clear.

“Hello, Scott.”

“Eos?” His eyes darted from John to the ceiling. “How are you?”

“Better.” And a somewhat shy, “How are you?”

“Been better, but thank you for asking.” He eyed John again. “What can you tell me about what happened?”

“I have created a report and sent it to your tablet.” A pause. “Please, Scott, can I check on him?”

Scott’s eyes stayed on John. His brother’s subtle nod was more than enough. “Please do, Eos. And...” He swallowed. “Thank you for protecting, Virgil.”

Hesitation. “He did the same for me. For all of us.”

John closed his eyes for just a moment before opening them again.

And she was brisk, urgent. “Please excuse me.”

All eyes in the room fell to Virgil.

Ten minutes later, Virgil’s eyes flung open and he gasped, struggling against the ventilator, choking.

-o-o-o-

Virgil spent most of the next week sleeping. It was irritating. No sooner was he awake than he was asleep again.

Eos found it amusing.

It just pissed Virgil off.

He was well known for loving his sleep, but this was a case of falling asleep halfway through a sentence. It was like his brain had a time limit and if he exceeded it, he was shut down. And the time limit kept changing.

Sure, it got longer as the week went on. Starting at two minutes upon his first gasping awareness.

_Thank you for that, Eos._

_You’re welcome._ A grin floated down the line.

And making a whole ten minutes by the end of the week.

It made having a decent conversation, or a decent meal, a study in the ridiculous.

Along with the narcolepsy, he had the joy of recurring migraines from hell. His nervous system had taken a major hit and it was stumbling. And who knew what his encounter with Maggot had done to him.

Scott demanded they haul their neurological specialist back in, so they did. When the man landed on the island, he was happy to see Virgil in such good health, despite the pain and his tendency to fall asleep mid-word.

Scans were produced, situations discussed. They didn’t quite go into the full detail of exactly what had happened, but the neurologist seemed happy enough. Virgil just needed the rest and time. If he didn’t improve, the doctor said to call him back, but he suspected both the pain and the need for sleep would wane as Virgil’s body and mind recovered.

So, it was mostly good news and Virgil felt they had gotten off lightly.

Unfortunately, he had four brothers, one grandmother and one AI who disagreed.

Gordon wasn’t speaking to him. His brother had had to watch his body shut down, and Virgil could understand his distress. He owed him, but was unsure what exactly he could do to make it better. He wasn’t sure there was anything he could do.

John was disapproving, of course, but endlessly fascinated by Virgil’s description of the virtual world. Part of Virgil suspected that it was probably good that he had the circuitry in his brain and not John.

John may never have returned. His natural curiosity would have been the death of him.

Scott… Scott was broken. He had seen the man snap before TB5 had dropped contact, and despite the events in between, his brother was still in pieces. He appeared solemn, but Virgil could see it in his eyes. It was part of the reason for his own frustration at his sleeping. Scott needed to talk and Virgil couldn’t keep it together long enough to have a decent conversation.

The last time he had tried, his brother had fended him off just long enough for his narcolepsy to kick in. Just as he was dropping off, Virgil grabbed his brother’s hand, gripping it tight, desperately trying to communicate as his eyelids drooped.

When he woke, Scott was gone.

So, yeah, pissed off.

The one exception was Alan.

His youngest brother stayed with him almost continuously and Virgil really wasn’t sure what to make of it. Particularly since he hadn’t wanted to know him for months previous.

“Did you want anything else to eat?”

Virgil stared at Alan. “What’s on your mind, Alan?”

His brother blinked at him. “Whether you want any more lunch or not.”

Half-lidded glare. “Apart from that. Something is obviously bugging you.”

“Yeah, well, my second oldest brother nearly got himself killed duelling with a psychotic maniac gone digital. That can kinda bug a guy.”

Alright, different tactic. Poke the bear. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? Are you kidding me? You were dead, Virgil! Heart stopped, brain stopped. Dead. Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because I had to! I couldn’t let you guys go up there blind. It was obvious some asshole was poking the system. Eos was missing. I had to do what I could to protect you.”

“And who the hell is going to protect you?”

“I protected me!” And it was true. He did. He hadn’t known what was possible, but now he did...there was no way anyone was ever going to hurt them like that again.

And he must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, Alan was gone and John was offering him dinner.

Damn it.

-o-o-o-

Thunderbird Five needed major repairs so once TB3 had her own repairs attended to, Alan took both John and Brains up to the wounded bird. Eos had visited her home, combing through the computer network looking for damage, fixing what she could, reporting what she couldn’t.

John, Brains and Eos launched another major project to protect both TB5 and the z-band network. Everything they had done before had obviously not worked, so a different approach was called for. It was a concern that too much security would work against them, preventing the ‘birds from being flown remotely, or lower the effectiveness of communications. The whole purpose of Thunderbird Five was to hear a call for help. It was likely the intruder, Il Mago, apparently, stupid name, had used that openness to gain access to the network in the first place. They had yet to find a solution.

The second question is what did the man want with TB5? Unlike the Hood, this guy apparently hadn’t been much for monologuing. His true motivation had yet to be discovered. The only clue they had was the commonalities between the Hood’s initial attack on Virgil and the attack on the satellite. Both opponents had wanted access to Thunderbird Five.

Why?

Virgil suggested that he had quite a lot of capability in the that virtual world. Perhaps that was unique to the z-band network, perhaps Il Maggot was looking for a staging site.

It was a viable theory only.

In any case, John, Brains and Eos put up some massive firewalls. Literally. Eos claimed they burnt like flame in virtual reality. She helped code them herself. And beyond that, a breach switch. If any of the firewalls fell, the system rebooted and wiped everything in active memory.

Including any invaders.

John built Eos a new home. No longer would she be part of Thunderbird Five. She had her own servers, equally firewalled off with restricted ports that could be disconnected completely from the network at her will. And the servers were portable, though physically secured against break in.

If Eos had to flee, she had a safe box to hide in. And International Rescue could save her.

The remaining question was Virgil.

Scott read the reports. Virgil still hadn’t managed his beyond a verbal outline, his narcolepsy messing with everything. That and the headaches. His brother said little, but Scott knew he hadn’t gotten off lightly. This Magician character had gotten his teeth into Virgil and although it was virtual, reality had taken a hit in any case.

The migraines continued and painkillers were a blessing.

The question remained. Who was behind this? What exactly did they want? And if another attack was imminent, how could they defend themselves?

Scott suspected Virgil had an answer and he knew he wouldn’t like it.

He watched his brother as he once again woke, his eyelids fluttering. The flutter was almost immediately replaced with a grimace of pain, but the moment those eyes caught his, the grimace vanished, drawn inside and hidden.

Internally Scott sighed.

“How are you feeling?”

Brown eyes blinked at him. “Getting better.”

“We need to talk.”

“Yes, we do. Listen, Scott –“

“No, Virgil, I have something to say first.”

His brother swallowed his words, and stared up at him. For just a moment, Scott saw those same eyes in a younger face, attentively looking up at his amazing big brother with just that touch of hero worship sparkling in their depths. It had been a while since he had seen that kind of vulnerable faith in Virgil’s eyes. It had long ago morphed into a strong respect and trust, more of equals, but Virgil was injured and in pain and there it was.

Scott swallowed and forged ahead. “I don’t want you to venture out into the network. No leaving your head. No adventures of the electronic kind. I want you to stay where you belong. And stay safe.”

Virgil stared at him. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“No, I’m not. You can not do this to yourself.” Or to us.

He couldn’t take it anymore. It would be the end of him.

“Scott, I may be the only defence against this kind of attack. You can’t do this.”

“I can and I will. John, Brains and Eos have set up security. It won’t happen again.”

“Yes, it will.” There was fire in Virgil’s eyes.

“No, it won’t.”

“Yes, it will. You can’t keep him out any more than you can keep me out. He is human, Scott. Just like me.”

“How do you know?”

“I know. Trust me, I know. He is the source of this technology.” Virgil pointed at his forehead. “He is the cause of all of this and he will be back.”

“Why?”

“Me. TB5. He won’t take this lying down. I hurt him, Scott. He is going to be pissed and the only defence we have is me.”

“Eos-“

“No! I have to protect Eos! He will kill her!” Virgil scrambled to sit up in bed, his eyes closing for just a moment in pain. Scott reached for him, but his brother brushed his hands away, dragging his feet to sit on the side of the bed. He grabbed Scott by his shoulders, his grip tight, almost painful. “You can’t ground me, Scott. You can’t. I have to protect us.”

Anger flared inside his gut. “Virgil…no.”

“Scott, you can’t deny me this.”

“You died, Virgil! I can’t-“

“You have no choice. It is my decision.” His fingers squeezed, passion in their strength. “I told you my price, Scott. I can’t let him hurt us.”

Scott stared at him. His little brother wanted to stand between his family and the darkness, lay himself on the line. No one else could do it. Scott couldn’t do it. He could only watch.

His throat was tight. One of Virgil’s thumbs was rubbing circles into his shoulder. Brown eyes were boring into his. The words escaped from him. “Virgil, I can’t-“

“You can, big brother. I’ve got this.”

Anger flared once again, but it fizzled fast. God, Virgil.

And then he was being drawn into a hug, Virgil’s arms wrapping around him, pulling him in tight. Whispered. “It will be okay.”

The room blurred with sudden tears in his eyes and he quickly clamped them shut, dropping his head on Virgil’s shoulder. God, please keep him safe.

They stayed that way for a few moments, Virgil continuing to rub circles with his thumbs, attempting comfort. It was only when the rubbing stopped suddenly and Virgil became a heavy weight in his arms, that Scott realised sleep had once again claimed his brother involuntarily.

He clung just a moment longer, before ever so gently supporting Virgil’s head and laying him back on the bed. He lifted his legs, and covered him with the blanket, tucking him in just like he had so many times before, so long ago.

A finger brushed stray hair away from Virgil’s eyes. So young, so strong, so damned determined.

Something solidified in Scott’s gut.

So, Il Mago was human.

His lips thinned. Scott couldn’t help his brother in the virtual world. But a human had to be human somewhere.

He would find the bastard and put an end to this.

Scott had his price, too.

-o-o-o-

A few weeks passed and Virgil slowly got better. He now spent most of his time out of bed, pottering around the house. The piano had been played several times. There was a new painting in progress. He still had bad headaches, but they were fewer and further apart, and the family had gotten used to finding their second eldest sprawled out asleep on the couch, on the pool lounges, one time on the kitchen bench and another curled up on the balcony. Eos kept an eagle eye on him, alerting John should Virgil show any erratic behaviour or look to be drifting off to sleep in a precarious position. He was banned from the hangars and Thunderbird Two. The thought of what could happen to him should he fall asleep while working on his still broken ‘bird…Scott had been adamant and Eos stood by the commander on this one.

Virgil grumbled, but complied.

She had also made sure he hadn’t ventured anywhere near virtual reality. Not that he had tried, far too tired most of the time to put in the effort, but Eos stood sentry just in case he might get a fool idea into his head.

She and John had long discussions about what had happened to Virgil. They also discussed what had happened to her, but she trod that path very carefully, not sure how she felt about the incident herself. Virgil broached the subject on several occasions also, offering an ear for her to talk to, if and when she needed it. She spoke a little, but felt she needed more time to process her reactions and the possibilities.

And to work out how to find the man who had caused all this grief.

The Eldest had a very long talk with her. He outlined his concerns for Virgil and interrogated her regarding Il Mago, attempting to find every little piece of information that might help locate him. This was something for which she was willing to ignore her own troubles to achieve. They needed to know who he was. She found herself forming a relationship with the eldest brother. It was different from those she had with her father and Virgil, but for the first time, she felt for this protective older, ever-worried Uncle. He was a man who would almost do anything to protect his family, and she could thoroughly understand that now, as she felt the same way. To protect Virgil, they teamed up. They would find the source of all their pain and put an end to it.

As for Virgil himself…

She visited him regularly. When John had first helped tend to her damaged code, despite his obvious exhaustion, she had protested, claiming she would be fine until he rested. But his urgency hadn’t only been for her, and the moment she had finally reached for Virgil, she understood why.

His mind had been silent and at first she had thought they were too late, that he had slipped away. That he was gone.

But dashing through the emptiness in a panic, she had finally heard that same piano music she had heard the first time she had gone looking for him all those months before.

He was hiding.

There was no damage like before. His neural network was strong and healthy. His brother had done a good job caring for him.

This time she found that it was his soul that had been injured. He was battered and bruised and hiding from himself.

But her presence had startled him. He had enveloped her the moment he saw her, his embrace all consuming, his happiness at seeing her well, radiating from him like a rising sun.

She had clung to him just as tightly, admonishing him for hiding and worrying his family.

Moments later she had grabbed his hand and dragged him back to consciousness.

The pain and frustration he had experienced since had been a trial, but he was getting better. Getting back to being Virgil - creative, clever and dopey all rolled into one.

And more her Uncle than ever before.

-o-o-o-

Alan hated apologising. It proved he had been wrong and Alan hated being wrong even more. But this time he had screwed up so badly, he didn’t have a choice.

While Virgil was recovering he had avoided the topic, but had attempted to make it up to his brother by being the attentive person he hadn’t been all those months before. Virgil attempted to question him on it, but he avoided answering simply because he didn’t want to upset Virgil while he was recovering.

But now he was getting better, Alan felt he could no longer hide and had to face the music.

Today Virgil was out on a pool lounger soaking in some vitamin D to replace all that he had missed while being stuck inside sleeping.

Alan swallowed his pride and walked out onto the pool deck and took a seat next to Virgil.

“I owe you an apology.”

Virgil looked up at him, questions on his face.

“Well, to be honest I owe you a whole bunch of apologies, but since they are all related to my own pig-headedness, I think I can summarise them together.”

“Alan, what are you going on about?”

Okay, time to jump in. “I was wrong.”

A puzzled frown. “About what?”

“About you.”

“In what way?”

“You would never knowingly hurt any of us, Virgil.”

“No, I wouldn’t. But you never said I would.”

“I accused you of not knowing what you were doing, of sabotaging Scott’s chute, Thunderbird Two, everything that really had nothing to do with you.”

“Yes, you did.” Alan flinched, but Virgil reached out a hand and touched his brother’s knee. “But you were right to do so. You were right, Alan. I was a security risk. I knew it. We all knew it. But none of us wanted to face up to it. We were damn lucky the Maggot didn’t take advantage of me in quite that way. Who knows what damage I could have done.”

“I wanted to send you away from the island.”

“I almost left, Alan. Unfortunately or fortunately, I don’t know, I just wasn’t strong enough.” Virgil looked up at him, vulnerability in his eyes. “I was terrified I would hurt someone, but I was even more terrified to leave on my own. And for that, it is me who should be apologising.”

Alan’s jaw dropped. “Virgil, no way-“

“It would have been the right thing to do, Alan.” His brother looked away. “But I couldn’t leave.” An audible swallow. “At first it was because I was too ill. I couldn’t talk properly, it was horribly embarrassing. Simple communication was just hard. After that improved, I gave myself excuses. Each time I visited my doctor on the mainland, I convinced myself to return despite the danger. I couldn’t…you’re my family and I just…I’m sorry, Alan. I wasn’t strong enough.”

How the hell? Alan was attempting to apologise for all his accusations, yet Virgil was apologising to him?

“You are unbelievable.”

Virgil frowned. “What?”

“You can not take responsibility for the way I treated you.”

“I’m not. I’m simply saying that you were right. I should have left.”

“No, I was wrong. I should have supported you like the others.”

Virgil tilted his head to one side. “What changed your mind?”

Alan looked down at his feet for a moment. “You fought for me, didn’t you.”

“You bet your life I did.” Another frown. “You doubted I would?”

“No, I doubted you could.”

There was silence for a moment. Virgil sat up slowly, his eyes intense, and slid to sit on the side of the lounger, facing Alan head on. Those eyes caught his and drilled in. “Alan, I would give my last dying breath for you. If there is anything I can do to protect you and our family, trust me, I will.”

Quietly. “I know.” He looked down. “I should have trusted you.”

A hand on his arm. “You did, and I betrayed that trust.” The hand squeezed. “You were right to doubt me and I’m sorry.”

Alan grit his teeth. “Will you stop apologising!”

Virgil flinched. The hand dropped from his arm.

So Alan grabbed his brother’s arms in a firm grip instead. “Virgil, I am trying to apologise to you. I kicked you when you were down. I had no right. It wasn’t your fault, we both know that. I just…it hurt to see you hurting, Virgil. I was angry. You’ve always been the strong one. You were hurt bad and I…damnit! I was wrong, okay. I’m sorry.”

Virgil wasn’t looking at him, his eyes unfocussed somewhere down to his right.

A shadow fell across them both.

Alan looked up to find Scott between him and the sun. His eldest brother’s expression was somewhat forbidding. “Virgil, you okay?”

Virgil looked up, his eyes bouncing from Alan up to Scott. “Yeah, why?”

And then it clicked.

Eos.

He glared up at Scott. “What? Do you think I’d hurt Virgil?” A flash of anger. “What does _she_ think I am capable of?”

“You’ve hurt him before, Alan.”

Alan opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Yes, he had.

“Oh, for the love of-“ Virgil shot to his feet, swaying slightly. Scott reached in, but Virgil shoved him off and glared at him. “Alan was right to express his concerns. Yes, it hurt. Sometimes the truth does that. Would he intentionally hurt me? No! He’s my brother as much as you are.” The glare turned onto Alan. “Stop apologising. Life sucks sometimes. I’ll get over it. It is in the past. You are my brother, you’re forgiven.” The glare shifted slightly upwards. “As for you, young lady, I can fight my own battles, thank you. I know you mean well, but Alan is my brother and I trust him.” The glare returned to both of his brothers. “This whole thing sucked. We all got hurt. I’m sorry for my part in it. Hopefully it will be resolved as soon as possible and we can get on with what we do best – saving lives.”

Virgil turned, his foot caught in the lounger and he kicked it away. Scott once again reached out to steady him and Virgil again shook him off. A glancing glare and he stalked off, frustration in every step.

Alan was left standing next to Scott, jaw slightly ajar. “Sometimes, I really don’t understand him.”

His brother looked over at him. “Remember that next time.” Scott turned and walked back into the house.

Alan swallowed and sat back down on the lounge.

Maybe he should.

-o-o-o-

“Oh my god, she really was his sister!”

At Gordon’s exclamation, Scott looked up from the repair schedule and stared into the centre of the comms room. It was midmorning and Gordon had been scanning through the news reports. International Rescue still wasn’t up to par, repairs still required on Thunderbird Two and Brains was still combing through the network looking for any further damage caused by their intruder…or Virgil, apparently his presence hadn’t been very kind in places either. Virgil claimed he had to learn somehow and had just dug in to help repair damaged code.

“I can not believe it. What the hell was she doing on that mountain?”

Scott frowned. “Who?”

“Fischler’s sister.”

“Fischler has a sister?”

“Apparently.” A report scrolled across the holovid, a haughty woman was speaking at a press conference.

“How did we not know that?” He hit a switch and hailed Thunderbird Five. “John, why didn’t we know that Fischler has a sister?”

His brother appeared floating above the desk, now dressed in his familiar blue uniform. A touch of red was beginning to appear in his roots. It would be fantastic to have his middle brother back to himself, both as a sign of Virgil’s recovery and simply because he missed him. That and the blond hair was just as tragic this time as it had been at his prom. John’s pale skin just did not support pale hair.

“We did know he has a sister. Just like we know he also has a brother.”

“There’s more of them?!” That was from Gordon. Scott looked up to see his horrified expression. “One is bad enough.”

“Well, someone has to keep the money flowing in. Where do you think Fischler gets the funding for all his projects?”

Scott frowned. “I thought he ran Fischler Industries.”

“I suspect he thinks he does too. No, as far as I can tell, both his brother and sister are quite capable. His sister manages the business, while his brother works in the technology division.”

“So what the hell was she doing on K2?”

John shrugged. “Climbing it?”

“I’m sorry, John, but trust me, she wouldn’t know how to climb a ladder, much less one of the highest mountains in the world. She had no idea what she was doing.”

Virgil walked into the room carrying a bowl of cereal. “Who has no idea?” A late breakfast, reassuringly familiar. His brother was managing to sleep in like he used to and Scott was ever thankful.

“Fischler’s sister.”

“Fischler has a sister?”

The holovid switched to a ‘gram of a man. An ordinary man, nothing special. Dark hair, perhaps a little older than Virgil. Unremarkable.

The cereal bowl smashed on impact with the floor, milk splashed everywhere. The spoon bounced across to the lounge, flinging oatmeal randomly through the holoprojection.

Virgil stood frozen, his face sheet white.

Scott shot to his feet. “Virgil?!”

Gordon, who was closest, jumped the lounge and slid to his brother’s side. “Hey, bro, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

As if unconsciously, Virgil reached out a hand and gripped his forearm, his eyes still fixed on the projection. Voice parched. “It’s him.”

Gordon’s gaze flicked to Scott and then back to the news cast.

Eos spoke before anyone else found their voice. “Percival Fischler, youngest brother of Langstrom Fischler, age 27 years, lead scientist at Fischler Industries, last month hospitalised for a suspected stroke, still currently undergoing treatment, only partial recovery expected.”

Virgil’s eyes were haunted, his voice barely there. “Il Mago.”

And the moment broke. Virgil stumbled, Gordon grabbing him. “I’m okay.” He stepped in milk. “Damn.” He reached down to pick up the bits of broken bowl, but his hands were visibly shaking.

Scott took the steps to his brother’s side and crouched down, grabbing his hands. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll clean it up.”

Wide eyes peered up at him. “It’s him, Scott.”

“It’s him.”

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
